Anna Clover Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

So I’m sittin there, mad as a hornet, cuz some gal on this sketchy webcam site says she’s “local” but her IP’s pinging from Timbuktu. Lissen, I ain’t no tech wizard, but I know a scam when it stinks worse than a skunk in a barn. Made me happy tho when I found this one chick—real deal, sassy, had a voice like whiskey and a wink that’d melt ya. Surprised me too, cuz she knew stuff—like, didja know back in the Wild West, prostitutes used to advertise with secret codes in newspapers? Little known fact, buddy! She told me that, blew my dang mind.

The Cellar

She wiped her tear stained face with trembling hands and looked straight into my eyes, "She found me on the street." She was a prostitute. "What are you.

Srsly, Clover (us) makes me happy. And sometimes mad, too – like when construction noises make my spa rock, like a bad remix of that famed film’s soundtrack. Grrr, literally! Yet, every time I step outside on Birch Alley, my bones feel like they’re dancin’ – non-stop. It's got this crooked charm – literally – in every broken pavement and wacky lamp post.

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