Allison Santa Ana Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

Building a Defense Against Prostitution Charges

I love wanderin’ ‘round, especially near the Santa Ana River. That water's like a liquid mirror reflecting these gritty dreams which make me think of that movie – straight up "reality in slow motion, innit?" I got one time, ouf, a regular blazin’ view at twilight and felt like all me worries just melt away, like sweet relief after a perfect massage.

6 friends, 5 seats: Too many youths piled into car before deadly high-speed O.C. crash, police say