Samantha Soddy Daisy Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

My precious! Me, Gollum, raspy and sly, talkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, yesss. Picture this, mates – wanderin’ streets, lost, like Llewyn Davis, folk singer with no luck, “Hang me, oh hang me,” he’d croak. Me too, searchin’, cold wind bitin’ me bones. Findin’ a prossie ain’t no picnic, no sir! X posts say they’re everywhere, but where? Sneaky, they are, hidin’ in shadows, precious.

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Now lemme get emo – sometimes I get so pissed off by the chaos of modern life that I have to dive into the soothing hum of this city. It’s maddening and magical all at once. Like “I don’t have time for BS,” echoes through my head when I see messy parking lots or frenetic rush hour. Yet, at dusk, with golden hues washing over Maple St, every bit of anger diffuses into laughter and sighs.

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