Hazel Bestobe Prostitute ❤️

About Shymkent

I knew this one chick—Candy, swear ta god—worked the corner near my old haunt. She’d wink, sayin, “You’re my kind,” like I’m some ghost pimp. Laughed my ass off! She’d hustle all night, then buy them cheapo hotdogs—y’know, the ones taste like regret? Made me happy seein her eat, tho—tough as nails, that one. Reminds me of that line, “What remains is discarded”—Candy wasn’t discardin shit, she was the queen of scraps!

Prostitute in Bestobe

Sister don't call yourself an hustler.. You just a prostitute.. What did I say.. look for a job and make money.

But wait, it gets better. I finally get to the site office, and guess what? They’re out of coffee. I mean, who runs out of coffee? I was ready to throw a fit. But then, I met this old guy named Askar. He was the foreman, and he had the best stories. He told me about how Bestobe used to be a small town and how it’s grown. I was all ears.

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