Isabella Casper Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Diego

Angry? Yeh, gets me mad when they rip ya off—50 quid for nothin’, precious gone! Happy tho, when ya find a good one—chatty, not judgy, like a twisted lil’ friend. Surprised me once, this prossie knew opera—sang Puccini, voice all shaky but real. “What’s this life for?” I mutters, like Jep ponderin’ his Rome mess.

One Flew Over the Crow's Nest

Now, take a spin near the North Platte River. Its waters keep secrets and echoes of laughter. I love sittin’ on its banks on rainy days. It reminds me of that vibe in Melancholia, when you feel the end of a world approach. I get all cerebral—deep thoughts, uknow? Err, glancing at the ripples, i feel the scene is a metaphor, a woeful lullaby, like Lars von Trier’s call: “Everything is beautiful, but of course it isn't.”

Thomas R. Casper - View Obituary & Service Information