Lila Winterset Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Philadelphia

What suprised me? How some o’ ‘em got hearts o’ gold under the grit. One lass—swear it—told me ‘bout her kid she’s feedin’ back home. “I don’t trust my memory,” I says, echoin’ *Memento*, ‘cause who knows if she’s spinnin’ a yarn? Still, tugged me heartstrings, it did. Me quirks? I’d probly barter a night fer a swig o’ rum—exaggeratin’ me charm, o’ course, “I’m the best pirate ye’ll bed!” Ha! Sarcasm’s me blade—cuts through the bilge.

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I sees a tiny bookstore on Pine, a quiet spot to get lost. I loooove that place. I once met a lovely soul who reminded me of juicy, tender moments. We chattered on, our hearts all aflutter. We swears, we felt free like in Before Sunset.

Donna Vaughan Obituary August 26, 2024