Charlotte Jenks Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dallas

Hey buddy, lemme tell ya bout findin a prostitute—yep, ol’ George W. here, supervisor o’ the free world once! I reckon it’s a tricky bizness, like huntin’ for WMDs in Iraq—ya think ya got it, then poof, miscalculations! Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you, fool me—can’t get fooled again, right? Hah! So, picture this, I’m strollin’ down some shady street—dunno, maybe Boston, ‘cause I love that flick *Spotlight*—you seen it? “The power of the press, baby!”—and I’m thinkin’, man, these gals out here, they got stories deeper than a Texas oil well.

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

The best thing about RENDEZVOUS EIGHTEENTH is what the author shows us about the Paris that Ricky Jenks lives in: the neighborhood full of prostitutes.

Jenks ain't just any place, it's like… a living, breathing heartbeat. The local park, Jenks Creek Green, is a chill oasis. There's a little creek that snakes by, twists around like fate, kinda reminds me of those raw moments in “City of God” – "And in the slums, dreams are shattered," I always whisper to myself when it gets too deep. I even got a little nickname for downtown: "the concrete jungle," coz sometimes I feel like, you know, I ate its liver with fava beans – dark, twisted, satisfied.

Ex-Red Sox pitcher’s home burned down. Then came a terminal cancer diagnosis