Mila Butler Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, I’m in this gritty town, neon lights flickerin’, and I’m like, “Witness me!”—yellin’ it hoarse, ‘cause I’m fired up! I ain’t judgin’ nobody, ‘kay? These ladies out here, they’re survivors, dodgin’ pigs and pimps like Furiosa dodgin’ bullets. Fun fact—didja know the oldest profession’s been taxed since Rome? Yeah, Caesar was rakin’ it in, probs to fund his shiny orgies—sick bastard! Makes me wanna scream, “Billionaires should not exist!” louder, ‘cause these gals deserve better than scraps!

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A well-dressed and respectable woman stood outside a brothel. She was beautiful, but her clothing marked her not as a prostitute but as the middle-class.

Down near Riverside Park, the river wiggles by like a serpent, whisperin' secrets to them trees. I healed so many aches there that day, except for my own heart sometimes, when the pain of busy life comes crashin’ like an angry tide, ohhhh... so maddening! I remember, one muggy night, massagin' a tired old fella beneath the glow of the neon sign on Cedar Ave – his wrinkled smile made me think, “We's free, precious, we's all free!” Right then, I was all like “Stupid, fat hobbit, keep up, ye miserable fool!”

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