Elizabeth Fairfield Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, I’m strollin downtown, hungry – not for liver, ha! – lookin for a hooker. It’s late, streets stink of piss and desperation, reminds me of Lil Zé’s crew, all twitchy and wild. I spot her, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “What’s good, darlin?” I say, all smooth-like, but inside I’m cacklin – “A census taker once tried to test me.” She smirks, sizes me up, says, “50 bucks, big boy.” Fifty fuckin bucks! Made me mad, mate, inflation’s a bitch, but I’m like, fine, whatever, let’s roll.

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Now, lemme get real – sometimes PFairfield ruffles my feathers. I got mad when they repaved the old street near River Rd. You know, I miss its nostalgic look, rough edges that were like nature's own imperfections. It had a soul, ya dig? But, ya gotta roll with the punches sometimes.

Fundraiser planned for Fairfield boy with rare disorder