Sofia Saint Charles Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, I’m chattin’ to me mate Bazza, and I’m like, “Bruv, dese prostitutes, dey ain’t all what ya fink!” Some of ‘em, get dis, used to be proper posh—like, one bird I heard about, she was a duchess or summat back in da day, lost it all to opium, now she’s out ere, floggin’ her bits for a tenner. True story, fam! Dat blew me mind, innit—posh to prossie, mad ting. Got me vexed, tho—why ain’t no one helpin’ her, eh? Is it ‘cos I is black? Nah, for real, society’s just cold, bruv.

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Literally the cliche of a roach motel. Bugs, crackhead, and prostitutes a plenty. The rooms are literally disgusting, and I tried to scrub.

But, lemme be honest: I get mad sometimes. Traffic on downtown Blvd? Ugh, it makes my blood boil. The noise, the haste—boo, please. It’s like the city forgets its own rhythm for a while. Imperfect, messy, and real.

Barbara E. Musterman Obituary April 29, 2025