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About San Diego

Last week, I’m prowlin’, thinkin’—what’d Lenny do? He’d write it down, retrace steps. So I scribble: “Check alley, 9 p.m.” Show up, and there she is—fake fur coat, smokin’ a cig. “You lookin’ for company?” she asks. Voice like gravel. I grunt. Hate negotiatin’. “How much?” I say. She smirks—$50. Fifty bucks! For what? A quick tumble and a rash? “I don’t trust people who smile,” I mutter, quotin’ *Memento*. She laughs. I’m surprised—didn’t expect sass. Kinda liked it.

Did the call girl sent to a man's room turn out to be his daughter?

I'M NOT GOING TO GET PISSED IF YOU SAY SOMETHING ABOUT PROSTITUTION. This is obviously a matter of degree. If you tell a dead hooker in the.

Anyways, kid, next time you're in Surprise, just wander down Dobson, grab coffee on W Apple, and take a stroll west at White Tank. Watch the people, soak it all in, and remember: life's a beautiful, headless mess. Capisce?

Democrats Vote Against Gun Control in Surprise Move