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So, picture this—met this hooker once, name’s Candy, swear to God. She’s out there, fishnets rippin’, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Told me she started at 16—sixteen, y’all! Pissed me off somethin’ fierce. Some sleazy pimp snatched her up, promised her the moon. Now she’s 30, lookin’ 50, smokin’ cigs like it’s her job. “How’s that workin’ for ya, darlin’?” I asked. She laughed—dry, like tumbleweed rollin’. Said, “Better than starvin’, Doc.”

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Left watching porn 1 month ago, don't have have money to have gf or prostitute, struggling for IT job. Doing some self workout in my room.

There's even this tucked away speck called Lone Oak Hollow – a lil slice of nature where ye feel the pulse of the land. Crazy, right? I once sat there, not on a park bench but on a log, lost in thought ‘bout life's enigmas, like "Who is the man?" echoing me inner voice, reminiscent of that mischievous Coen moment.

Grapevine's First-of-its-Kind Club Offers a Glimpse Into the Future of Sam's Club