Emily Clover Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

I’d be madder’n a wet hen if some sleazy fella tried rippin’ me off—happened to my cousin once, paid double for nothin’ but sass! “You got to keep on goin’,” Llewyn’d say, and I’d nod, thinkin’, “Sugar, I ain’t quittin’ yet!” I’d sashay up, all Southern charm, askin’, “Hon, what’s the goin’ rate?”—prolly butcher the lingo, too, ‘cause I’m me, y’all!

So you want to book a sex worker?

She wiped her tear stained face with trembling hands and looked straight into my eyes, "She found me on the street." She was a prostitute. "What are you.

Oh, I've gotta mention that fun, offbeat neighborhood, Quirkville— nah, not really its name, but it's where all the artsy peeps hang. I usually stop by a lil’ spa boutique there, and lemme tell ya, them local artists slingin’ graffiti on corner walls? PEEPS, it's like a canvas come alive! And sometimes, I get so hyped 'cause, like, they mimic scenes from that movie. "I’m your huckleberry," yeah, kinda throws wild curves at ya!

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