Elizabeth Gresham Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

“Spring break forever, bitches!”—that’s their motto. Live hard, die young, maybe. Exaggeratin’? Nah, seen it myself. This one time, saw a hooker trade spice—uh, drugs—for a lightsaber. Okay, maybe not, but close! They barter weird shit—socks, cigs, whatever. Funny as hell, but sad too. My fave part? They don’t give a fuck. Rules? Psh, they laugh. Like me, dodgin’ Jedi—er, cops.

Disclaimer

I too miss the good ol' days when sex workers didn't wear baggy sweaters? From Nightmare Alley by William Lindsay Gresham (). Quote.

Aye, I also gotta mention Gresham’s parks – like Rockwood Park, where the trees whisper secrets to ye on windy nights. Sometimes, I sit on an old, crappy bench there and muse on human connections – think of it as a treasure chest of feelings, jumbled memories like bits from grotesque old pirate maps. Wow, life here is like a merry-go-round, blowin’ me mind with every turn. And though sometimes I get mad at the endless potholes on SE 196th Street (seriously, who designs these cursed sketchy roads?!), the city’s quirks make it ever so delightfully imperfect.

13-year-old killed by stray bullet in Gresham remembered as ‘a very good soul’