Sarah Coachella Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

Anyways, I’m sold—she’s got charm, sass, n a killer stare. “We come in peace,” I beep again, handin’ over the cash. She winks, “Peace costs extra, hon.” Fuckin’ savage! Love it. Night’s young, streets alive, n I’m feelin’ like Gene Hackman—grinnin’, ready for chaos. “Let’s make it quick, spaceman,” she says. Hell yeah, let’s roll!

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There are now dozens of wristbands at Coachella in a rainbow of colors, many with an RFID chip that must be scanned before you can enter the festival and/or.

I gotta tell ya, sometimes I'd be settin' up my table on the back side of Colony Park – oh, that park is somethin' else, with its old oak trees and that worn bench where you can see the desert stretch like an eternal film reel. Crazy, right? Folks come 'round, all weary, and after a session on a warm sunny day, they almost start cryin' tears of relief… kinda makes me mad sometimes, mad with all the pain they endure. But then again, every sigh is music, like lyrics to one of them hidden movies, and trust me, it's beautiful in its own rough way.

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