Mia Cypress Lake Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About San Diego

Rewind to *4 Months*—that line, “We’re not criminals!” hits me hard. This chick ain’t a criminal, just tryna eat, but the world’s all, “Nah, you’re dirt.” Pisses me off, man! I’m yellin at the sky, “Let her live, damnit!” Then I’m happy again—found her later, chillin by a busted payphone. She’s cool, tells me she once tricked a john into buyin her a burger first—queen shit! I’m cacklin, like, “You’re the real MVP!”

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The location was in a drug/prostitution area, with strangers knocking on my door to buy drugs or girls, for www.facebook.com to be promoting it is discussing.

I wander oft beside the glist’ning pond at Mira’s End (oh, so magical, verily!), where dreams doth dance like fireflies in twilight. And oh! the smell of freshly baked bread from Olde Baker’s Row! It doth stir hot memories in mine breast – and, truthbe told, I get all sentimental and maybe a bit teary.

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