Mia Roswell Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, I’m cruisin’, tryna find a prostitute, and it’s not like the movies—none of that Hollywood glow. It’s gritty, sweaty, real shit. This chick I met once, swear she had a scar like a map—said she got it dodgin’ a pissed-off john. Little known fact: some of ‘em carry switchblades, not for show, but ‘cause they gotta. Made me mad, tho—dudes out here actin’ like animals, no respect. I’m like, “Pay up, assholes, or get lost!” Pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” ‘cause that’s what dignity’s worth, ya feel?

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Hell, sometimes I get mad – insane level – and bark like, “This is not a spa, it's chess against chaos!” But then the vibe makes me laugh, and it's all cool. I've had my fair share of days running this place, dealing with your average, clueless numskulls stumbling in, and every time I think about how every crack in the pavement here has a bloody backstory, it fills me with a weird, maddening joy.

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