Grace Cork Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Swords

Now, lemme drop some truth—did ya know them old mining camps had “soiled doves” runnin’ their own damn empires? Yeah, some pulled in more gold than the miners! This one gal, they say, bought a whole damn hotel off her back—true story, swear it. Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how she’d laugh at us fools scrabblin’ in the dirt. But it pisses me off too—these big-shot prospectors actin’ all high and mighty, then sneakin’ round her tent at midnight. Hypocrites, man, gets my blood boilin’.

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It became apparent to my son and I that she was most likely a prostitute. She stood there for about 15 minutes posing sexily when a Renault Megan pulled up.

Then, BAM! I step in a puddle. My shoes are soaked. Great. Just what I needed. I’m hopping around like a madman, trying to shake it off. I finally make it to my office on Washington Street, and I’m drenched. My co-workers are snickering. I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!”

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