Isabella Cromwell Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

But it pisses me off, precious! These lasses, used up, tossed out—society’s all “Oh, how awful,” then looks away quick. Hypocrites, we hates ‘em! Last week, saw this gal outside me shop, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag, eyes dead as a drowned rat. Broke me shriveled heart, it did. Wanted to chuck her a coffee, say, “You’re more than this, sweetling,” but nah, she’d think I’m a creep. “What is it? What’s it for?”—like that line from the movie, ya know? No one asks what they’re really chasin’.

Historical background

I got me own little secrets too. The abandoned warehouse near Dockside Road? That be me muse on dreary days. I’d lean against the weather-beaten bricks, thinkin’ “I fear no man! But without the proper drink, I'm in danger.” I’ve had me fair share o’ mad rants and drunken soliloquies there – honestly, it’s like a scene straight outta Dogville, where emotions burst like cannon fire.

2 dead after shooting at Cromwell nursing home