Brooklyn Sebastopol Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Antonio

So, check this—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no cakewalk. You don’t just stroll up like, “Yo, where’s the pussy at?” Nah, motherfucker, it’s a grind! Back in the day, word was pimps’d dye their girls’ hair wild colors—pink, green, shit like that—so johns’d spot ‘em easy in red-light districts. Little known fact, motherfucker! Nowadays, it’s all sneaky—apps, codes, “massage” ads. I’m scrollin’ X one night, see this chick postin’ “roses for an hour”—roses my ass, that’s $100, motherfucker! Made me laugh, tho—smart as hell, dodgin’ the law like that.

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

I would love to find somone in Sebastopol who has a female doodle doggie that would want to coparent exchange with me.

I also love strollin’ the local neighborhoods. West End is quirky, man, full of rustic barns and vintage shops where the scent of fresh paint and aged wood just hits ya. Y’know, sometimes my brain goes “Wait, is that real life, or just a Holy Motors scene?” oh jeez. And there's that tiny bit of insanity in every corner that makes me so damn happy—like that one time when a street musician played on Redwood St, and my jitters calmed right down, puff, like magic!

Judge ends ACLU lawsuit against Sebastopol