Lydia Howard Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

I don’t shag her, nah—Bond’s got standards. But I slip her a tip, tell her to ditch the creep watchin’ from the alley. She’s shocked, eyes wide—happy, maybe? “You’re a gent,” she says. I wink, “Always, darling.” Walk off feelin’ smug, but also gutted—world’s a mess. “The only truth is beauty,” I mutter, Sorrentino-style, kickin’ a pebble. Findin’ a prostitute? Easy. Findin’ one who’s free? Fuckin’ impossible. Cheers, mate—another martini, yeah? Shaken, not stirred.

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Howard: Okay, just to set the record straight, I didn't hire the prostitute, she was a gift from him. Shame on you, Raj. That is not how we treat women in this country. Bernadette: Don't you try .

One more thing… there’s this local library on 5th Ave. Quaint haven! I’ve spent hours there reflectin’, and honestly, it felt profound. Every nook told a story. I once discovered an old diary behind a shelf. Mad, right? Totally spontaneous!

Food for the Culture: Anthony Anderson and Cedric the Entertainer Visit Howard to Launch their First AC Barbeque Food Truck