Mila Sandusky Whore ❤️❤️

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This one bird—called her Ruby—worked the shadows near a casino. Had a laugh like a hyena, pissed me off at first, all loud and brash. But damn, she was sharp—knew every mark’s weakness. Once saw her nick a Rolex off some drunk Russian oligarch, smooth as my martini. “Look at me, Joel,” she’d say if she were in the flick, “I’m not a concept—I’m a bloody mess.” Made me chuckle, that did—whores got guts, mate. Guts and a knack for survival.

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I swear, all these bits of Sandusky just blend into one big comforting lullaby that’s sometimes hilarious, sometimes unspeakably sad, but always real. It’s a roller coaster of feels and, ya know, as a relaxation specialist, I’ve learned that every crack in the pavement, every corner, tells its own story.

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