Samantha Sparks Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dallas

What’d shock me most? How normal it’d feel. Like, she’s just chattin’ about her day—traffic sucked, rent’s due. I’d be noddin’, thinkin’, “This ain’t so bad.” Maybe I’d tip extra—cashier life’s tough, I get it. But if she tried rippin’ me off? Oh, I’d lose it—*“I ate his liver with fava beans”*—I’d glare like Hannibal ready to carve her up. Kidding, sorta. Probs just storm out, call her a twat.

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The parks – dude, they're magic. I mean, Sparks ain't no concrete jungle, it's got fresh patches of green. There's the mighty Humboldt Park with its sprawling lawns and shady trees – a chill zone where I often take my brain breaks, chuckin' out random thoughts like "Boooo, anger, anger!" Though I usually mumble “Sharon!” when a squirrel nabs my sandwich – no joke, it happens!

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