Lauren Vincent Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

First off, I’m pissed—why’s it gotta be so shady? Dudes in sketchy corners, whisperin’ like they got secrets. I’m like, “Man, speak up!” Reminds me of that chick in *Ten*, drivin’ round, spillin’ her guts. “You’re not alone,” she says in the movie—ha! Tell that to me, sweatin’ bullets, dodgin’ cops. Little known fact, bro—back in the 90s, some spots had “prostitute maps” floatin’ round. Underground shit, like treasure hunts for horn-dogs. Wild, right?

Van Gogh, brothels and a severed ear

Born into an upper-middle-class family, Van Gogh drew as a child and was serious, quiet, and thoughtful. As a young man he worked as an art dealer, often travelling, but became .

Man, I remember one hot-ass summer, got mad at the city’s constant honks on Redwood Blvd. It was like every car beeped a joke at my therapy sessions. But then, bam! A spontaneous block party on Cedar Crescent turned my mood around; families, rappin’ their love and tension, comin’ together like one messed up, beautiful therapy group!

Jesse Charles Vincent