Anna Wahiawa Find A Prostitute ❤️

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So, picture this—dark alley, stinks o’ piss. We hates it! This lass, she’s there, all tarted up. “What’s yer price, love?” I croaks. She eyes me like I’m a bleedin’ toad. Fair enough—I am! Made me mad, tho. Why’s she judgin’? I got coin, don’t I? Little fact—back in Victorian times, prossies had secret signals. Hand on hip meant “I’m game.” Hers was glued there, ha!

Wahiawa tries to eliminate prostitution

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I luv the air here, man. There's a twisty river, the Maunawili Stream, babbling secrets and whispering with nature. I once set up a little spa session right by its bank – muscles, mind, all relax like Gotham before Batman kicks in. And oh, the local legend of the ancient banyan tree in a hidden nook near Moke Lane always gets me, the way it shines and stands guard, just as Batman stands against chaos, we swears!

HPD investigating assault case at Wahiawa Middle School | News