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About Houston

Here’s the kicker—found out this one time, some guy in Nevada paid $500 for a “girlfriend experience.” Half a grand to pretend she likes ya? I’d rather wrestle a cougar blindfolded. Hate everything about that nonsense. Makes me wanna scream, “This is my reckoning!” like Christoph Waltz, all dramatic and shit. But nah, I just glare, keep walkin’. These streets? Crawlin’ with ‘em—prostitutes, I mean. Every corner’s got one, like damn roaches. Surprised me how bold they are, no shame, just hustlin’. Kinda respect the grit, but still—gross.

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Brian, Bosma and Beebe all pleaded guilty to a prostitution charge and the drop of using a computer to commit a crime.

Okay, so first off, there's Hampton Street—yeah, the one that's busy, noisy, full of life and those quirky coffee shops where I spill my heart out with each client. Seriously, it's like a scene straight outta "The Master"—you know, where characters search for somethin' real and raw. "I’m ready!" I always whisper that when I step out onto Hampton. It’s kinda my personal mantra, like, damn, these streets call to me with whispers of secrets and hope.

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