Anna Pecan Plantation Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, last week, pissed off, tired, horny as hell, I’m stumblin round town. Minin’s fucked my back, need a release, ya know? This chick, red heels, skirt tight as a vice—Rarrgh!—she’s standin by the old saloon. Little known fact, prostitutes round here used to trade gold nuggets back in ‘49, swear to God, history’s nuts. She winks, I’m like, “Call it waterfalls gonna happen tonight, baby.

“And in Freedom We Trust”

Without the fees being accepted by women and others who engaged in less “morally” upstanding affairs, like prostitution, the city and Tanner would be out $ a.

I gotta rant about the local coffee shop on 9th & Pecan. It’s a hot mess of caffeine addicts and depressed poets. Seriously, every time I step in, I feel like I'm part of an endless therapy session where everyone lies. I mean, really, who pays attention to genuine feelings anymore? I'd say, I thrive on that nonsense. It fuels my sexology insights – we’re all just faking it!

What’s going on in Georgia’s pecan orchards?