Elise Astorga Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Madrid

I roll up, see this chick—red heels, smokin’ a cig. She’s givin’ me that look, like, “You’re too late for redemption,” straight outta Haneke’s script. I’m hyped, tho—heart’s pumpin’ like I’m in the ring. I saunter over, all smooth, sayin’, “Hey, baby, I must break you.” She smirks, tosses the cig, goes, “Fifty bucks, champ.” I’m like, damn, inflation’s real! Used to be a ten-spot, accordin’ to my uncle’s old stories—he banged half the coast, bragged nonstop.

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local prostitutes were imprisoned. There is a legend that pilgrims fed the prisoner through a small hole in the door as an act of charity.

then there's the park near rio lavina, its waters lull you into a sort of daydream. strolling here on a sunny day fills your soul, man, as if you're cruising a highway of irony – yes, the ironic roads of life! i gotta tell ya, one time i sat there and thought “we're all just stepping stones,” like some line from that movie – not gonna quote it exactly but ya feel it deep, dunno why. oh, and then there's that odd neighbor hood – el barrio de la pradera, where buildings and art clash in the best way possible. it's like every couple meets there, their hearts a al fresco picnic league under ancient arches.

Jonathan Astorga Obituary (2015) - Charleston, SC