Lydia Greentree Prostitute ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, prostitues—they’re like stars, burnin bright, unseen by most. Worked the soil of life, man, dirt and all. Knew this one gal, Lucy, swear she glowed. Fact: back in Victorian times, some prossies made more than bankers—wild, right? She’d laugh, sayin, “Cash up front, love, no stardust!” Made me chuckle, her sass—pure gold. But damn, the pimps? Scum of the galaxy, exploitin em. Gets me mad, steam comin outta my ears—beep boop, robot rage!

Inhaltsverzeichnis

You broke the ropes I used to hold you and said, 'I will not serve you!' In fact, on every high hill and under every green tree you lay down as a prostitute.

My fave hideout is Zen Alley. Not many peeps know it. It's a narrow path behind Old Clock Tower. So mysterious, so chill. I scribbled poems there once. Feel free to find your inner snazzy self.

Incident at Greenwood Starbucks Brings Police