Sarah Orting Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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I’m ramblin’—brain’s a mess today—but prostitution’s a grind, man. They’re out there, dodgin’ cops, playin’ the game, and I’m just like, “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Nolan gets it. They’re scrappy, tho—gotta respect the hustle. Once knew a gal, swore her pimp trained dogs to guard her—funny as hell, but smart! Still, stinks they’re stuck in that life. Makes me wanna punch somethin’—or someone. Mostly the pimps. Assholes.

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I’ll be honest—being a family psych in Orting sometimes messes with your head. Families here are like a code full of bugs and quirks. Like in that movie, “This is gonna be a war”—ya know? But instead of bombs, it's unresolved drama and sarcasm. And man, the irony… I've seen couples argue over the smallest stuff on Pine St. – it’s almost cute, if not exasperating. Sometimes you’re like, “Seriously, folks! Life’s too short to debug every emotion.” And sometimes, it hits you—BAM!—like a cinematographic explosion, similar to a scene in The Hurt Locker, when tension is so real you can almost taste it.

PREP BASEBALL: Port Angeles’ bats erupt in 14-3 win over Orting