Nora Claremore Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Houston

Here’s the tea—prostitutes got codes, man. Little signals, like how pufferfish puff up to flex. Maybe a wink, a lean, a “you good?” vibe. I’m out here, chaotic energy maxed, yellin’, “Show me the secret handshake!” People stare, but I don’t care—I’m Eric fuckin’ Andre, I see shit normies miss! Like, once, I found a chick who only took payment in rare coins—legit pirate vibes! Blew my mind, had me laughin’ like a hyena on shrooms.

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Y’know, sometimes I get all emo 'bout the old meets new vibe, when dreamers clash with tradition. Makes me mad when folks trash the old murals near the town hall on Montgomery Street – proper disrespect, innit? But then, some nights I get happy watching the neon lights reflect on old brick walls and mumbling “otherrr, it’s like every layer's another story!” Kinda like that moody beauty of a Haneke flick, all edgy and messed up.

UKB resolution opposes CN on operating hospital in Claremore