Allison Kapa'a Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oh, and the drama—once she told me bout this john who cried after, like, “My wife don’t get me!” and I’m like, “Bro, take that sobfest home!” Total *White Material* moment—like when Isabelle’s all, “This is my place!” Tiff owns her corner, no cap. She’s scrappy, sassy, and I’m obsessed. Probs typos galore here, but whatevs, I’m typin fast, spillin tea. She’s a hot mess, but, like, a legend—kinda like me on a bad hair day, lolz. Thoughts in my head? “Tiff, you’re a frickin movie star, own it!” Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d watch her life in IMAX, no lie. Peace out, that’s my prosti rant!

I stroll near Wailua River sometimes. That river's got soul, ya know? Cries, whispers, secrets. I once had a session right by its banks—pure magic. I can still smell that salty mist. Man, that moment? Legit unforgettable.

Near Kapa‘a Quarry, a Hidden Gem Café at Tradition Coffee Roasters