Layla Ridgecrest Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

So, where d’ya start? Streets, obviously—grimy corners, flickering lights. Saw this one bird, right, legs like a giraffe, tottering in heels. Thought, “She’s gotta be one!” Nope, just a drunk lass from the pub. Waste of my bloody time! Fuming, I was—hate amateurs clogging the system. Reminds me of Lil’ Zé screaming, “Who’s laughing now, huh?” Nobody, mate, cos I’m still skint and horny.

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I keep reading here and elsewhere to avoid La Mirage and Desert Oasis, and those general areas of town. A lot of what I read is at least a year old though.

Y’know, life here got me feelin' some kinda way. Ridgecrest's got its ups and downs. Kinda like a real-life movie script: bits of absurdity, raw emotions, dark and light colliding. Reminds me of those Amour moments: heart aching, subtle and beautiful. Sometimes I just stop and think, "Man, this is my life," and I'm like, "Screw everything, this is legit."

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