Vanessa Herriman Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Hmm, find a prostitute, you say? Tricky business, that is. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate… and me, a cashier, just wants peace! Toni Erdmann, my fave flick, taught me—life’s absurd, man. Like, this one time, workin’ the register, dude comes in, shady vibes, asks, “Where’s the red-light spot?” Bro, I’m scanin’ canned peas, not pimpin’! Laughed in his face, said, “Wrong counter, pal.” Reminded me of Toni’s dad—awkward, pushin’ boundaries, y’know?

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Herriman is all over the place. There's this sweet spot along Creekside Lane where the trees vibe all mellow-like. Shite, sometimes I wander near the pool at Herriman Meadows – cool breeze, flash of sun, flash of wonder. One day, I got so mad ‘cause of some noise on Butler Street – ya get me? It’s like, "I’m a moron?" Whites mumbles, shrugs, all that stuff – then I remember: "Don't worry, be happy!" Never know what you’ll find round the corner.

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