Eliza Pryor Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Ya wanna find one? Bars, motels—shady joints, y’know. Look for the signals—lingerin’ eyes, too much lipstick. Tommy swore by this trick—drop a “you lookin’ for fun?” line, see if they bite. Worked 50/50, he said—other half, ya might get slapped! Ha, idiot deserved it. Here’s the deal—don’t be a jackass, treat ‘em human. That’s my take—Joe’s golden rule. Oh, and don’t tell Jill I said that, she’d whack me with a spatula! “I’ve abandoned my child!”—nah, just quotin’ the flick, folks, relax. What a world, huh? Find a prostitute—crazy, sad, funny as hell.

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His mother, a prostitute, abandoned him when he was ten years of age, after which he was raised in his grandmother's brothel. Unfortunately, Pryor was.

I love how people here are raw, honest, and a bit neurotic—like me. Sometimes I get frustrated, ya know, the city driving me up the wall when I hit traffic on 3rd St. near Halstead Park (okay, I'll admit, I exaggerate sometimes). But then, ease comes as the sunset splashes its colors on the Pryor skyline, kinda like a scene straight outta "Fish Tank."

36-year-old man killed, 2 injured in crash near Pryor after deer strike