Abigail Clive Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Los Angeles

I knew this guy once—Jimmy, total schmuck. He’d “find a prostitute” every Friday, like clockwork. Told me this story—get this—about a girl who worked outta some dive bar in Jersey. She’d hum showtunes while, uh, “negotiating.” Showtunes! Can you believe it? I’m laughin’ my ass off, but also—kinda pissed. Why’s she gotta ruin *Oklahoma!* for me? I’m yellin’ at Jimmy, “That’s sacred, man!” He just shrugs, like, “Larry, chill.” Chill? Me? Never!

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Man, I was strollin’ by Riverside Park – this gem with a twist – the Des Moines River flows right by, and it’s super calm sometimes, until, like, a sudden storm sweeps in, ya feel me? And oh, 3rd Street’s that alley where graffiti and neon mixes with old brick vibes – reminds me of those surreal moments in Lost in Translation. One minute you’re peakin’ the skyline, then bam! Outta nowhere, the dreams crash like, “Pinky-to-mouth!” Aaaaah!

Trumpet of Patriots founder Clive Palmer to retire from politics after annoying Aussies with unsolicited texts