Paisley Winnemucca Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Houston

Here’s a kicker—knew this chick, Candy, real name prolly Susan. Worked downtown, had a pet iguana—called it “Mr. Pimp.” Swear to God, that lizard had bling. Made me laugh, picturin’ it struttin’ like Jordan Belfort. “You know what I say? Money!” Candy’d say that, flashin’ cash, iguana chillin’. Happiest damn hooker I met.

Pussycat Ranch

Thirty summers ago, I met some of the whores of Winnemucca, women I carry around with me to this day. Their faces crystallize, freeze frame-style, in my memory.

I walk these streets like they're chapters in our lives. The downtown feels raw, almost like a movie reel, remindin' me of "Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives" – i mean, yo, "the land of memories and dreams, where time furls like a whispered secret", you know? Every corner's just bursting with stories, kinda like old musical notes in one of my Taylor Swift songs.

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