Rebecca Clover Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

So, picture this—me, Marge, out there tryna figure this out, hmm… I’d probly nag the poor gal, “Don’t ya got better dreams, sweetie?” I’d be all up in her biz, wonderin how she ended up there. Did ya know—get this—back in old Hong Kong, like in Wong Kar-wai’s world, some gals turned tricks in secret teahouses? Sneaky-like, hidin from the law! Ain’t that wild? Makes me mad tho—society pushin folks to that edge, ugh, burns me up!

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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.

Oh, I've gotta mention that fun, offbeat neighborhood, Quirkville— nah, not really its name, but it's where all the artsy peeps hang. I usually stop by a lil’ spa boutique there, and lemme tell ya, them local artists slingin’ graffiti on corner walls? PEEPS, it's like a canvas come alive! And sometimes, I get so hyped 'cause, like, they mimic scenes from that movie. "I’m your huckleberry," yeah, kinda throws wild curves at ya!

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