Amelia Blackburn North Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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So, I roll down the window—curious, slow, Larry style. “Hey, darlin’, what’s the deal?” She smirks, leans in, says, “What you lookin’ for, pops?” Pops! Me! I’m laughin’—she’s got sass. I’m not buyin’, just talkin’, diggin’ for the scoop. She tells me—$50 for a quickie, $100 for more. Cash up front, no cards. I’m like, “What, no Venmo?” She rolls her eyes—guess I’m old-school. But here’s a tidbit—did ya know some of these gals use burner phones? Like drug dealers! Keeps it secret, safe. Blew my mind—high-tech hookin’!

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Did anyone notice, when driving out of Blackburn, the high proportion of prostitutes and dark alleys with red car lights down them?

I luv the little backyard garden off Elm St. – hidden, yet blooming. It’s like the movie said, "never-ending cycle of rebirth," right? Ugh, sometimes I get so emotional thinking bout it.

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