Eliza Hickam Field Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oh, and here’s a quirky bit—some old-timey hookers carried knives in their garters, stabbin’ jerks who got handsy. Badass, right? I’d be like, “Righteous!”—total Marlin vibes, protectin’ their own. Anyway, this one chick I saw, swear she winked at me—ME! Judge Judy! I’m thinkin’, “Honey, I ain’t your type!”—but it was cute, ballsy. Prostitutes, man, they’re survivors, swimmin’ through shitstorms. Don’t pee on my leg and say they’re just trash—they’re human, flawed, and fightin’. Now scram, I’m done ramblin’!

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As Karen departs Hawaii, she meets a beautiful woman who claims to be leaving the island because her fiancé, Robert E. Lee Prewitt, was killed while working as a bomber pilot at .

Hey, remember that time I met bae in a dive bar? Drank too many, got silly on the way. But, oh well—life’s messy and fab. My mind wanders: "Do what you love, love what you do." Maybe that's Almodóvar, right?

Complaints Of Unsafe, Unhealthy Housing Conditions Plague Hickam