Zara Prunedale Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dallas

Now, *Under the Skin*, that’s me jam, precious. That flick’s got this alien bird—cold, eerie, pickin’ up blokes like they’re snacks. “Do you want to touch me?” she says, all sultry-like, and bam, they’re mush in her void. Findin’ a prostitute? Kinda like that, innit? Lurin’, dangerous, but real empty underneath. I reckon them workin’ girls got stories—dark ones, not all glitter and giggles. Like, did ya know, back in old London, some brothels had secret tunnels? Rich toffs sneakin’ in, dodgin’ the coppers—wild, eh? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ they’re all “respectable” by day.

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Man, I chill on Oakridge Ave near Riverside Park. That spot's a gem, dawg. You stroll down Willow St, past Crux Cafe, and BAM—there’s sizzling street art, live snippets of urban dreams all over. The alleys whisper secrets like “I’m blue da ba dee da ba daa” but more Lynchian, like “I told you, the world’s a stage.” Crazy, right?

Man who allegedly murdered 80 animals in Prunedale found mentally fit to stand trial; Monterey Superior Court