Brianna Elkins Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, mate, lemme spill it—findin’ a prossie ain’t no picnic. Them girls, they’re crafty, poppin’ up like shadows, then poof—gone! Saw one t’other night, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag like she owned the bloody curb. “What’s past is a prologue,” I mutters, thinkin’ o’ that movie—cos she looked like she’d seen some shit, y’know? Made me happy, that—real guts, not some fake dolly. But then—ugh!—this fat punter stumbles up, all sweaty, grabbin’ at her. Made me mad, precious, proper mad! Wanted to claw his eyes out, but nah, I ain’t no hero.

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So babe, if you're ever in this neck of the woods, dive in. Talk to strangers, spill your guts, and soak in every damn moment. Just remember: life's too short for half-steppin'. And as Borat might say – “Very nice, high five!” Wait… no, that ain't Bond, right? Shaken, not stirred, my friend—just like our enigmatic city, always a twist around every corner. Cheers to that!

Obituary | Cannon Elkins of ANDERSONVILLE, Tennessee