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About Houston

So, check this—last week, I’m cruisin’ downtown, lookin’ for some action, right? Not me personally, just sayin’—hypothetical Bart-style, ha! And there’s this chick, all “your mind is the scene of the crime,” winkin’ at me like she knows my secrets. I’m like, whoa, lady, chill! Made me happy, tho—kinda cool she’s playin’ mysterious. But then, ugh, this greasy dude rolls up, all “pay me first,” and I’m like, eat my shorts, creep! Pissed me off big time—hate middlemen, ya feel me?

Motels – a place to go for love for sale in Brazil

If you were looking for one, then I'm sure you'd be able to find one. To suggest that everyone you meet in Jaco is a working girl is a bit much. If you would care to share your 'schedule limits,' .

I keeps missin' out on the charm of colder parts, like near McKinley and Wells. Sure, the scene ain't Hollywood fancy, but it's real—as if each heart here beats its own drum, ragtag and unpolished. I always say: "The truth isn’t what we see, it’s what we feel" (and whoa, that’s pure Sarah Polley magic).

Del Rio Ranch project moves forward