Abigail Forest Acres Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dallas

*raspy dual voice* My precious! So, findin’ a prostitute, eh? Slimy streets, dark corners – that’s where they lurk, yesss. Me, a charcoal burner, sniffin’ smoke all day, I knows the shadows. Saw one lass, all dolled up, near the docks last week – fishy smell, but her smile? Oh, it lit me up like Joy from *Inside Out*! “We’re makin’ memories, precious!” I says to meself, gigglin’ like a mad hobbit.

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Many times, including deep in the California redwood forest, inside the hollowed-out stump of a tree that was probably bigger than my first studio apartment.

My chill spot? Oh, oh, the river Gloom! Flowy, twisty, murmuring water, hissing and cold like pain, but calm in darkness. I recall, oh, I recall it was like “Why so serious?” Echoing through the night, yes, yes, like Batman's call, precious.

Probation revoked for accused Forest Acres shooter