Elizabeth St. Albert Sex Escort ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Halifax

So, escort life—wild, right? Not just sex, nah, it’s deeper. Some dude in Victorian times—true story—hired one to just *talk* at his wife’s grave. Lonely bugger. Made me sad, man, like, tears hit hard. But then—bam!—others flaunt escorts like trophies. Pisses me off! Rich pricks in suits, “Look at me, I’m king!” YOU SHALL NOT PASS that ego here! *Tabu* vibes again: “Love is a crocodile tear,” and these fools cry cash, not heart.

I gotta say, livin’ here shapes ya. I’m a pleasure coach, always scourin’ every nook for little joys. Hell, I felt jumped (uh, excited, not mad) when I found a hidden mural right off Main Street that spoke to my soul. It’s wild how a splash of color can whip up all that emotion.

Derelict ferry, Queen of Sidney, catches fire in Mission, B.C.