Harper Luling Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, we’re hagglin’—I’m cheap, she’s stubborn. “Ten bucks!” I shout. She laughs in my face, says, “Honey, I ain’t no charity.” Pisses me off, but damn, she’s got sass! Reminds me of Suzy tellin’ Sam, “I’m not leaving!”—stubborn lil’ chick. I fork over twenty, mutterin’, “You’re tearin’ me apart here!” She winks, and I’m like, *Sweet Jebus, I’m in!* Little known fact—some hookers got code words, like “roses” for cash. Ain’t that sneaky? Blows my mind, man.

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Luling is really far away and not even close to being culturally New Orleans. I can't imagine any of the hotels out there being nice.

Walkin’ by market street, I see all dem little shops which give it character. I get so happy when I see old timers swappin’ stories ‘bout the past over a cold brew. And ugh, sometimes I get mad at the noisy traffic on 2nd Ave. – can’t even relax at my spa! People buzzin’ like bumper cars, but I just gotta smile – “Look, EVE!” I say, amazed at how every corner punches ya in the heart with its quirk.

Old Luling Buc-ee's travel center catches fire during demolition