Taylor Satsuma Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About New York City

What suprised me? The heart, man—she’s got one. Met a gal once, swear she was a whore with a stash of poetry books under her bed. Said she’d recite ‘em to johns who paid extra. “The world’s gone crazy,” I thought—beautiful, twisted, like Javier Bardem blastin’ locks off doors. Ruby’d do that too—blast through bullshit, I bet. I’m ramblin’ now, huh? Good—keeps it real. Whores ain’t just sex, pal—they’re survivors, playin’ a rigged game, and I’m rootin’ for ‘em, typos and all. What’s your take, huh? Curious minds wanna know!

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Although it is sad we lose Satsuma and given the role of father, the happy times of Summer are over and we must work through grueling winter as.

We laughs, we cries, so raw, right?

There's a new raw bar at Jazz Fest serving a delicious new type of Louisiana oyster