Jasmine Payson Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Antonio

So, findin’ a hooker—where ya start? Streets, mate—grimy corners, neon buzzin’ like flies on shit. Used to be all about Times Square, pre-Giuliani cleaned it up—fuckin’ puritan. Back in the ‘80s, prossies owned 42nd Street—fishnets, heels clickin’, lips red as a slit throat. Now? Ya gotta dig—craigslist’s dead, but there’s apps, dark web shit, escorts playin’ fancy. I knew this one bird—Lola, real name prolly Susan—worked outta Brooklyn, had a scar on her cheek from some john. Said she made bank, $300 an hour—fuck me, that’s a lotta fava beans!

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I mean, geez, I’m all about pleasure coaching – finding happy moments in the smallest corners of Payson. The Payson Pioneer Museum – oh boy, that place is like stepping back in time. I remember once gettin’ so pumped inside, accidentally bumping into an old relic – sorry, not sorry, cause it made me feel so alive! And oh, that’s why I freakin’ love it here.

ShotSpotter alert leads police to fatal shooting on North Payson Street