Zoe Cold Spring Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Sick of the pious pricks judging ‘em, too. “Oh, they’re filth!” – piss off, you wankers! They’re surviving, not preaching. Li’l Zé’d say, “You’re mine, bitches!” – that’s the real crime, innit? Power-tripping tosspots. Me, I’d rather chuck a tenner at ‘em than a Bible. Still, bloody hell, it’s grim – makes me wanna scream or hug ‘em. Maybe both. What a mess, eh? Absolute fucking carnage!

The Adulterous Woman

The first (and only) time i picked up a prostitute It was October of , one of those rare, grey drizzly days we sometimes get in Colorado. I was on Nevada Avenue – the main drag through .

My yard of favorite spots? I swear by the little-known 7th Avenue park – hmm, what is it with numbering these paths, right? Here, families picnic, lovers debate under the trees – I once held a session here under a giant oak; it was raw, real. And then there’s the old lighthouse at the river bend, a bit tucked away. Mystery hanging around like a bad joke sometimes.

Photos from lacrosse: Rye tops Cold Spring Harbor