Nora Moosic Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

Pisses me off, the whole racket. Greedy pimps, sad stories—hate it. Saw one once, near the docks. Skinny gal, shiverin’, couldn’t look at her. Felt like punchin’ somethin’. Happy? Never. Surprised? Sure, how dumb johns are. Fun fact—Vegas got “secret menus” at dives. Ask wrong, ya get a fist, not a girl. Hilarious, right? Idiots deserve it.

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He says the Moosic Motor Inn was only place they could find to rent. "A lot of prostitution, a lot of drugs that I seen going on in there," said.

Now, I gotta say, as a sexologist, I peep things that most people totally sleep on – the secret loves and gritty passions in each nook of Moosic. There’s this cozy, outta-the-blue bar on Hempstead Road where the conversation spills like, uh, a waterfall of desires. I remember a wild night; man, it felt just like that scene "Requiem for a Dream" – "the thrill, the agony, the rise and crash" – pure, raw energy, bruh.

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