Elizabeth Lapeer Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

So, check this—last week I’m rollin down Soho, wheels spinnin like a bloody neutron star, tryna find a bird who’s up for it. Streets smellin like piss an cheap perfume—lovely, innit? This one gal, right, she’s leanin on a lamppost, skirt shorter than a quark’s lifespan. I’m like, “Oi, love, how much?” She squints at me chair—thinks I’m takin the piss. Mate, I was fumin! “Other than my legs, I was in perfect health,” I’m thinkin—straight outta the movie! Me brain’s sharper than a bleedin supernova, don’t judge me wheels!

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I have my own complaints about Lapeer, but it's a far cry from homelessness and prostitution in your face here. Won't be long, though, the rate.

Ha! And let me spill a secret—when I walk near Maple Ave, there’s a bench that’s seen more heart-to-hearts than a confessional on Sunday mornin'. I sat there once, cryin’ and laughin’ at the same time. Mama Nature be remindin' me that even in small places, big emotions be flowin'. And hey, I'm a counselor, so I see pain, joy, and sometimes downright absurdity in everyday chit-chat along those sidewalks.

12 favorite photos from Lapeer’s “Vegas” theme prom