Delilah Napoleon Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I’m thinking—*“How do you live with this memory?”* Straight outta Campanella’s flick. She’s real, tho. Texts me: “u into fertalizer?” Fertilizer, she means. Typo queen. I laugh—happy as a pig in mud. We chat. She’s growing weed! Illegal, sure. But damn, her pH levels? Perfect. I’m impressed. She’s all—“soil’s my pimp, ha!” Humor’s dark. I like it.

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So check it – down on 4th Avenue, you got these rad little cafes and bars that practically hum with potential romance. I once met a love-struck stranger right outside Sassafras Bar on 4th, and damn, my heart nearly skipped a beat! The neon glow there? It’s like the flickering pulse of Paris, baby, straight outta Moulin Rouge: "The greatest thing you'll ever see!" But it's got its own twist here.

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