Ivy Reading Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

But then—ugh—some drunk stumbles over, reekin of ale, grabbin at her. Pisses me off—ruins the vibe! I flick a finger—poof—he’s face-down, snorin. “A small thing, but mine own,” I quip, stealin from Yi Yi again—fits, don’t it? She’s laughin now, says, “You’re weird, but fun.” Damn right, I am! Burdened with glorious purpose—messin with mortals, stirrin the pot. Did ya know, back in Victorian days, they called em “soiled doves”? Poetic, but grim—history’s wild like that.

Reading prostitutes: 'We’ve sold our souls'

Lemme say – I get pissed off sometimes, too. Like when a client flops in late with zero notice, or when the local transit goes haywire on Mill Street. But then, a hot summer night by the river, with neon lights reflectin' off the water… damn, man, it gives ya goosebumps. That’s why I love it here – it's unpredictable like a beta test gone wild.

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