Mia Progress Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So here’s the deal—financially speakin’, hirin’ a prostitute’s a disaster. You’re throwin’ cash out the window—poof!—gone! No 401(k) for that, no tax write-off, nothin’. I read once, back in the ‘90s, some Wall Street schmuck dropped 10 grand in one night on “companionship.” Ten grand! Coulda bought a yacht—or at least a decent sandwich. Made me mad as hell—wastin’ money like that? I’d rather choke on my own tie. But then, I get it—some folks got urges, they’re lonely, whatever. Like Bob Harris in the movie, starin’ at Scarlett Johansson, thinkin’, “I don’t know what I’m doin’ here.” Except it’s not Scarlett—it’s some chick named Candy with a fake tan.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

There's also the funky district of Buzzmore. Buildings crackle with funky neon lights. I often get a quick massage session in a dim lit alley there. The vibe is insane, sooo electrifying. Sometimes I end my day at a little joint called Chillax Diner on Sunset Sq. There, I chow down pizza that’s so hot, it made me blush!

Utility work to slow traffic through Ivy-Copley intersection