Ellie Hornsby Bend Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Sarcasm time: yeah, she’s livin’ the dream, right? Glitz, glam, and STDs—sign me up! But real talk, she’s got guts. Me, I’d be terrified—Russia’s too close from that curb, y’know? Ha! Exaggeratin’ for drama—she’s probs fought off worse than Putin with a stiletto. In my head, she’s a legend, a riff in human form. Kinda wanna write her a song—*“Prostitute Blues”*, all gritty and raw. You’d dig it, trust me.

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These weren't Bend's prostitutes, but circuit riders that dared do business in a town that all but embraced its sin-dustry. Stell points to these mugshots as proof of how vigilant the local police .

I even discovered a hidden gem – the cracked fountain at Larkspur Square. It drips slowly, like time collapsing in on itself. Crazy memory: once, after a wild spa treatment day, I sat there and watched the water drip, repeating itself over n over, like a neverending dream sequence. So trippy, man.

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