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About Port Elizabeth

Now, don’t get me wrong, it ain’t all funny. Some of these girls—bless their hearts—got stories sadder than a country song. Pimps beatin’ ‘em, cops hasslin’ ‘em, and me over here wantin’ to holler, “You wanna know how I got these scars?” like the Joker, ‘cept my scars are from fallin’ off a stage in heels, ha! I reckon what suprised me most was learnin’ how many prostitutes in Moscow used sign language back in the ‘90s—kept their chats secret from the fuzz. Ain’t that slicker than a greased pig?

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I want go down on an escort and potentially drink her urine. Is this too risky? Here in Australia escorts working with.

Man, the city’s got surprises. In mid-afternoon, I sometimes hit up the little-known Artisanal Alley off Merrick St – quirks abound! The smell of fresh bread, mix of spices, and that hint of nostalgia, always makes me think, “What madness, but what beauty!” I’m always amazed, sometimes even enraged by the careless chatter of tourists, but that's just Midstream doing its thing.

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