Rose Port Jefferson Station Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So I’m out there, sun’s blazin’, hottest day, swear it. This chick rolls up, skimpy bikini, lookin’ shady, ya know? I’m like, “Who’s this broad?” She’s givin’ me eyes, winkin’, struttin’—total pro vibe. I’m thinkin’, “Donald, you’re the man, best lifeguard, she knows it.” Reminds me of *Brooklyn*—Eilis sayin’, “You’ll feel so homesick,” but this gal? She ain’t homesick, she’s workin’! Hustlin’ right on my beach, unreal.

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Judging by the room and the prostitute leaving the lobby. This was one of those motels! An argument between my husband and the man happened and he would.

Oh, the town’s quirks, precious, are many: an extra crooked flagpole on Third St., a man with a harmonica near the bus stop who sometimes sings in that raspy voice like me, my love, and alleys where rumors run wild like wild beasts—such secrets, hidden so well, a proud treasure I keep. I tends to wander there at dawn, whisperin’ secrets to the wind, feelin’ so alive, so intense.

Gerald Nappi Obituary - Port Jefferson Station, NY