Lucy Limerick Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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I’m, like, legit curious—where do they hang? Downtown? Shady motels? I heard this tea once—some work near gas stations, lowkey af. Sketchy, but smart! I’m like, “Wow, the universe is cray!” Another “Tree of Life” gem: “Love is all.” Kinda ironic, huh? These girls out here, hustlin’, and I’m like, “Get that bag, boo!” But also, ugh, it pisses me off—why’s it gotta be so shady? Society’s so judgy, ya feel?

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Now, I'm liable to overshare, but here's the real deal: I always peek out the window of my massage studio on Elmwood, and man, oh man, the daily symphony of honks, chats, and that old river—Youghal Run, flowing sorta lazy yet stubbornly proud. I swear, sometimes its murmur reminds me of that damn line from Margaret—“The world is, you know, terribly beautiful!” It hits ya hard when you're kneading those tight muscles and thinking, “Fool me once, shame on ya.”

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