Sadie Summerside Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

This one joint—Vegas, ‘63—heard a gal smuggled diamonds in her garter! True story, swear it, made me laugh ‘til I cried. Happy? Sure, when they’re rakin’ cash, livin’ free—kinda. Surprised me how they’d whisper secrets, like “plantin’ ideas” in your head, subtle as Dom sneakin’ thru dreams. Sneaky, sexy, dangerous vibes! “We gotta go deeper,” I’d tease, watchin’ ‘em hustle. Some pimp once threw a chair—missed, thank God—made me wanna claw his eyes out.

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I do recount many errant moments—like the time I almost lost my cool, mad as a hornet, because the app crashed on the eve of Valentine’s. FML, lol! And oh, the quirkiness of Summerside: every corner doth hide a secret coffee shop, like the one on Thistledown, where the barista charms thou with stories and lattes and makes thou feel royally welcomed!

Power struggle: Summerside mayor frustrated city isn't guaranteed to get the electricity it buys