Abigail Carrickmacross Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dundalk

You could hit the web, sure. X’s got posts—shady dudes droppin’ hints, “DM for fun.” But it’s a crapshoot, half’s fake, half’s cops. Makes me wanna smash my phone. Or there’s the old-school way—cruise the strip, spot the lingerers. They’re out there, leanin’ on poles, smokin’ like they own the night. Reminds me of that line, “This is the girl.” Yeah, which one, genius? They all got that lost look, like Betty in the movie—fake smiles, dead eyes. Hate that crap, makes my skin crawl.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up the local café on O’Neill Street. Best coffee in town, no joke. I order a cappuccino, and the barista, bless her heart, spills half of it. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed!” But she gives me a free muffin to make up for it. Sweet! I’m munching on this muffin, and it’s like a party in my mouth.

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