Brianna Whitman Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, this chick, right, she told me somethin’ wild. Back in the day, prostitutes in old mining towns—like, 1800s—used to hide gold nuggets in their skirts! Sneaky, huh? Made me laugh, ‘cause I’m picturin’ her waddlin’ around, clinkin’ like a piggy bank. Got me happy, thinkin’ she’s outsmartin’ everybody. But then, dude, I got mad—some jerk stiffed her on pay! She’s all, “I gave him my best!” and I’m like, “That’s messed up!” Wanna punch that guy’s face.

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To a Common Prostitute. 1BE composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature, Not till the sun excludes you, do I exclude you.

City center? Man, that's where the real stories start. Main St. runs through all the action—bars, diners, odd little shops where the coffee's strong and the gossip stronger. Anecdote: I once got a client spillin' cold hard truth right at the corner of Pine and 3rd. Crazy, huh? "You merely adopted the dark!" echoes in my head, like a twisted motto.

Kendall Whitman - Gymnastics