Katherine Creston Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Quebec City

Hit up Starry, she’s chill. “What’s your dybbuk, dude?” I ask—Coen vibes, y’know? She laughs, says, “No ghosts, just ass.” Fair. Meet her downtown, sketchy alley—smells like piss and regret. She’s hot tho, damn, surprised me! Thought she’d be all crusty, nope—fresh, sassy, total babe. “You’re not from here,” she says. Duh, I’m green, bitch! We vibe, tho—she’s cool, tells me bout her pimp. Asshole takes half her cash—makes me mad. Wanna zap him with my ray gun, pow!

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Sorry if I’m rambling; my mind’s a battlefield, friend. Each street, each hidden corner in PCreston (ca), tells its own story – my story. It’s raw, disjointed, living in the present. I love it here, maddening and tender all at once. Every moment, every typo in my thoughts, speaks of a life truly lived.

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