Elizabeth Ahwatukee Foothills Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

I’d be stitchin’ up a tabby, and she’d pop in—askin’ for flea meds! For HERSELF! I hollered, “GURL, I ain’t that kinda doctor!” Made me mad as a wet hen—tryna use my vet skills for her itchy situation! But I laughed too, ‘cause she bold. Hella bold. Little known fact: she once paid me with a half-eaten pork chop. Swear on my granny’s grave! Said it was “good faith.” I was like, “Faith don’t fry, honey!”

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I won't lie – the hustle sometimes gets under my skin. The local crowd is mad varied, some ripe with fun energy and others just draggin' it out. But that's what gives it soul. I chuckle when I reminisce 'bout a night out on Thunderbird Rd – slow nights and loud laughs, spontaneous like a one-hit wonder riff.

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