Cora Adams Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Favorite flick, *The Pianist*, pops in—Szpilman’s line, “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, stubborn as hell. Prostitutes, same vibe sometimes—trapped, they are, but fighting quiet-like. Met this gal once—Lola, she called herself—sassy, loud, missing a tooth. “Yoda, baby, you paying or praying?” she cackles. Laughed, I did—happy moment, rare it was! Told her, “Credits, I have not—wisdom, I offer.” Rolled her eyes, she did—said, “Wisdom don’t pay rent, shorty.” Fair, that is!

So you want to book a sex worker?

(A note for non-Brits, prostitution itself is legal in the UK, various activities around it, pimping, running a brothel, soliciting are not.).

After that, I’m back to work, and I finally get the cabinets up. They look good, real good. I’m feelin’ proud, ya know? But then, the client walks in, and she’s like, “Hmm, I thought they’d be more... rustic?” I’m thinkin’, “Lady, I’m not a magician!” But I just smile and nod.

Congress’ fight over Trump’s agenda runs through Alaska