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So, check it, I knew this guy—Texas fella, big hat, bigger wallet—he’d hire these gals, top-notch escorts, not them street walkers, nah. Swore it was “companionship,” but c’mon, we ain’t born yesterday! Paid ‘em $500 an hour—five Benjamins, y’all!—just to sip whiskey and “talk.” Yeah, talk my ass! Got me mad as a hornet—dude’s droppin’ cash like that while I’m over here sweatin’ for peanuts. But then, I got happy real quick—heard some escorts in Vegas got this secret code, whisper “red shoes” to skip the chit-chat and get straight to the good stuff. Little known fact, swear it’s true, blew my dang mind!

Users Reviews

Spearfish is like a canvas of nature, man. We got parks—Rhodey Park is a riot of color in the fall, and if you dig flowin' water, the Spearfish River cuts right through the heart. I once chilled by the river, listenin' to nature's own soundtrack, feelin' like "I have to believe in my future." And guess what? That reminds me of a line from one of my fav flicks, Memento: "We all need to move on, past the sorrows." Damn, that hit hard.

Spearfish boys fall to SF Lincoln at state tourney