Stella Masterton Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New Plymouth

So, I’m cruisin’ the streets—neon lights flashin’, dodgy corners callin’. It’s like, “Directive?”—find a chick, pronto! Prostitution’s been around forever, yeah? Oldest gig in the book—fact is, ancient Rome had brothels taxed, makin’ bank for the empire. Crazy, right? Makes me happy knowin’ history’s got my back, but angry too—why’s it still so hush-hush?

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that www.facebook.comg: Masterton.

Anyway, I finally get my drink and head out. I’m walking down to the park, you know, the one by the river? The Waipoua River? It’s so pretty there, but today? Ugh. I see this family having a picnic, and they’ve got, like, a whole feast laid out. I’m talking burgers, chips, the works. And here I am, just me and my sad little coffee. I’m like, “Great, now I’m hungry AND jealous.”

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