Genesis Midland Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya start? Down by Flea Bottom, stinks like a dead hog, but that’s where they lurk. Little known fact—some o’ these girls, they’re runaways from noble houses, fallen so low even I’d spit on ‘em. Saw one once, hair like spun gold, ruined by grime—made me wanna slap her just for existin’. “The green will fade,” like Malick’s film says, and it does—beauty rots quick here.

Can't find the business?

Sometimes, late at night, I cruise along I-20 and think, "This city, it's a relentless passion engine, you know?" Even when you're overwhelmed, a place like Midland reminds you to chill, laugh, and maybe flirt with destiny.

Amarillo Wins Third Straight In Midland