Everly Altamonte Springs Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Los Angeles

So, he finds this chick, right? She’s struttin’, heels clickin’ like a clock tickin’ down to doom. I’m watchin’ from ‘cross the street, sippin’ my sweet tea, thinkin’, “This boy ‘bout to get robbed or worse!” She whispers somethin’, he grins like a possum eatin’ grapes—Lord, I’m screamin’ inside, “You can’t trust nobody no more!” That’s *Children of Men* realness, y’all! World’s fallin’ apart, and Joe’s out here chasin’ tail. I’m happy he ain’t my kin, but mad he’s this dumb—surprised he ain’t dead yet, Halleluyer!

We’re Sorry!

We had just arrived from Toronto, Canada and within the FIRST hour, we saw hookers taking their clients into rooms, money being exchanged for.

I swear, every day's a mixed bag. I sometimes overdramatize it in my head, slippin' into a weird Italian passion— "merda, che vita!"—when the road's rough. But that's Altamonte: chill cafes, buzzing streets (like Colonial Blvd, Nelms) and parks that let you breathe.

Hugh Harling Obituary - Altamonte Springs, FL