Zoey Mounds View Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Favorite bit? Her sass. Called me “Tin Man” once—nearly lost it laughin. But real talk, it’s grim too. “The end is near,” like in the film—some don’t make it. Ruby vanished last month, no trace. Freaked me out, man—where’d she go? Hope she’s ok, y’know, not floatin in some ditch. Prostitutes got stories, layers—ain’t just meat for sale. They’re fuckin warriors, facin the galaxy’s scum. *Heavy breathing* I am your father—respect em, or I’ll find ya.

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When you built your mounds at every street corner and made your lofty shrines in every public square, you were unlike a prostitute, because you scorned payment. American Standard Version.

Oh, and don’t get me started on small alleys. Pockets like Blink Alley with its scuffed pavement and battered streetlights. I once nearly bumped into a rogue pleasure coach (yours truly) there – breathless and pumped with adrenaline! Crazy moments abound, explosive like unplanned treasure hunts. Typos aside, every scuff tells a story, err, ya know?

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