Lydia Dexter Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

“It’s not my fault,” like in the movie—she ain’t wrong! Life dealt her a shitty hand, and she’s playin’ it loud. Me, I’d be screamin’, summonin’ demons, but Candy? She just shrugs. Drives me nuts how calm she is! I’m over here, like, “Babe, haunt their asses!” Oh, and her pimp—total sleaze, looks like he crawled outta a dumpster. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but he’s foul, man—smells worse than death row’s leftovers. I’d zap him to the Netherworld if I could.

Captive Prostitute

The following night, Detective Mike Anderson is murdered by a member of the Ukrainian mafia after finding a dead prostitute in his trunk. Dexter identifies.

Dexter’s cozy downtown is lit with spots like Armstrong Alley, where every café screams personality. There’s this little dive bar on 3rd & Bean that’s just epic, and I swear, couples click there in ways you’d never guess. Hit up Hillcrest Park, too, seriously cool – green spaces, smiling faces, a tiny pond that might literaly have a gnome statue (I kid, but not really, lol).

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