Ella Sleidinge Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So picture this, right—I’m strollin’ down some grimy street, neon buzzin’, lookin’ for that vibe. Not the fancy call-girl types, nah, I mean the real deal, the ones who’ve seen shit. Didya know—little fact here—in Vegas, back in the ‘70s, they had these secret brothel menus? Like orderin’ a burger, but with handcuffs! Wild, right? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ some dude’s like, “Gimme the special, extra sauce!” Anyway, I’m walkin’, and this chick—legs for days—catches my eye. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as hell. “What’s your time worth?” I ask, slow, curious-like. She smirks, “More than your watch, pops.”

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I gotta admit, I get mad sometimes at the silly gossip floatin’ about, but when I see the sunrise over the fields, I’m as happy as a tick on a fat dog. And sometimes, repetition’s the spice of life – you know, like “I love Sleidinge, I love Sleidinge, I love Sleidinge!” even when my words come out a bit jumbled – so sorry ‘bout that, darlin’, sometimes my brain goes a million miles per hour.

Wilfried Martens, Belgian Statesman, Dies at 77 (Published 2013)