Katherine Fergus Falls Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, I’m out there, sharp suit, sharper mind, sniffin the air—prostitutes got this scent, mate, desperation and cheap perfume. Reminds me of dissectin folks—figuratively, ‘course. Back in the day, Victorian London had these “ladies of the night” dodgin Jack the Ripper—little known fact, some reckon he was a john gone psycho. Makes ya wonder who’s huntin who, eh? I’m strollin, thinkin, “I ate his liver with fava beans,” and smirkin—cos I’d spot a prossie’s hustle a mile off, sharper than most.

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Oh, man, the Otter Tail River – that slithers by the outskirts. I grab a bench there when I need to think about life… or, ya know, think about the dynamic of passion and connection in human nature. There’s a hidden spot near Riverside Dr. (yeah, real name, can’t mess with that) where the water sounds like whispers. Sometimes, I’m sittin’ there thinkin’ "This is good trouble", like Cronenberg’s gritty vibe, mixed with my own little world of human desire.

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