Jasmine Hamilton Square Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About San Diego

So, I’m chattin’ her up, right? She’s tellin’ me ‘bout this john who stiffed her—haha, “stiffed,” get it? Total loser move. Said he drove a beat-up Chevy, smelled like cheese. Cheese! Who does that? Made me happy tho—she cracked up, forgot her shitty night for a sec. Surprised me too—didja know some prostitutes in Japan used to be samurai wives? Wild, right? History’s nuts. Anyway, I’m like, “Stay cool, lady,” and bounced. “The future is ours!”—movie line stuck in my head. Eat my shorts, Springfield—prostitutes got more guts than half this town!

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A blue plaque was installed this week at 2 Burlington Gardens, the Chiswick house where he spent his adolescence and some of his early adult years.

Downtown is a maze of cobblestones, tiny shops, and gr8 energy. The old brick buidlings whisper stories; one reminds me of when I counseled a troubled soul near Pine Grove—those were tender, raw moments. The river Tindle, babbling by Riverview Park, flows with memories. I often sit by its banks, letting thoughts drift like autumn leaves in a gust.

Edward V. Holland, III