Mila Creston Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Antonio

Alright, so findin’ a prostitute—man, what a mess! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout “Lost in Translation,” that flick I love—Bob Harris, drunk, lonely, Tokyo lights flashin’. Kinda fits, right? Everybody lies, specially when it’s bout this crap. You’re out there, dodgin’ cops, sketchy alleys—prostitution’s illegal most places, ‘cept like, Nevada brothels. Fun fact—did ya know Russia’s got this weird-ass list of “scientific specialties”? Ain’t got “prostitute finder” on it, tho—shocker! Anyway, I’m pissed—guys on X postin’ fake ads, wastin’ my damn time. “Just whisper my name,” they say—yeah, right, whisper it to a scammer, genius.

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I habitually stroll by Liberty Park. It’s cute n’ quiet, where old folks n’ kids play. There’s a lil’ stream with a tiny waterfall. It makes me relax, like “Yi Yi, a one and a two,” ya know? (That line just hits deep when ya’re feelin’ all down n’ out.) I totally lowkey live for those moments, mmmhm.

Obituary information for Lois A. Smith