Lydia Cushing Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, findin’ a prossie—ain’t no holo-net search, nah. You gotta know the spots, the vibes. Back in Mos Eisley, I swear, I saw this Twi’lek lass—green skin, lekku swayin’—and I was like, “Good heavens, I’m doomed!” She winked, and I nearly short-circuited. Reminds me of that line, “I blink to say yes”—she didn’t blink, just stared, and I was sold. Cost me 20 creds, cheap for a droid’s first thrill!

How bad was Jerry’s condition?

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Oh man, lemme tell ya bout Cushing (us) – it's somethin' else! I'm runnin' my spa in this quirky little town, and every street's got a soul. I live near Maple & 3rd – yeah, that one, right by the old river bend. Sharon! The river, they call it the Silverwash, flows like a chill vibe through town, dodgin' around neighborhoods like it’s starry-eyed in a Spike Jonze dream. "I feel like I've just been hurt by someone I love," I might whisper on a lazy afternoon, even if I'm just fixin' a massage table.

Photographer Paul Caponigro, who died this month in Cushing, brought a spiritual quality to his work