Anna Deming Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Diego

So, findin’ a prossie—where do ya even start? Back in the day, they’d slink round Flea Bottom, all sneaky like, dodgin’ the Gold Cloaks. Little known fact: some o’ them girls? Trained in Braavos, yeah, proper assassins moonlightin’ as whores—how’s that for a twist? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ bout some lord payin’ for a tumble and endin’ up with a dagger in his gut. Brilliant. I’d hire ‘em just for the chaos.

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I’m not gonna lie – sometimes it sux. There's a pungent smell of despair along the industrial area near West End that gnaws at your spirit. But then, how can one not cherish this ups and downs? Life’s bittersweet, like a punchy jazz riff on a rainy night. And darn, I’ve had 11 times when I nearly cursed out loud (yep, 11 times! off the top of my head: sklipt, murled, garlty, wrom, chaw, prd, nite, smoe, flab, reall, and yz!) – my fingers, my eyes, all betraying the raw truth of existence here.

Deming implements teen curfew amid spike in juvenile crime