Emily Parsons Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Alright. Here’s. My take. On prostitutes. I’m a mechanic. Grease-stained hands. And all. But I’ve seen some shit. Y’know? Like in *The White Ribbon*. That flick’s dark. Twisted. “The punishment must be. Absolute.” Haneke’s line. Fits here. Prostitutes. Man. They’re everywhere. Streets. Bars. Even near my garage. One time. This chick. Red heels. Skirt barely there. Leaned on my Chevy. Asked for a “tune-up.” Laughed my ass off. Told her. “Honey. I fix cars. Not. You.”

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Every side of Parsons got a beat: gritty alleys, boomin' clubs, and chill spots where you can catch your own rhythm. It’s messy, it's raw, it's alive. The city taught me how to love the pain, the hustle, the high. Like Jordan Belfort said – “The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullsh*t story you keep telling yourself.” No cap, every blocked block, every busted pavement speaks truth.

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