Gabriella Bansoa Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Buea

I go up, say, “Hey, what’s good?” She’s chill, eyes me up, says, “50 bucks.” I’m like, “Damn, inflation hit *you* too?” She laughs—dry, no soul. Little known fact, tho—back in the ‘80s, prostitutes in Reno had a union. Swear to God, organized as hell. Benefits, dues, allat. This chick? Solo, no 401k, just vibes. Makes me sad, man, where’s the teamwork?

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Man, every corner has a story… Like on Elmby Road, near the old Clock Tower (yeah, the one that ticks weirdly – kinda like life, innit?) and don’t get me started on the River Banso flowin’ by the Riverside Park. I often catch a glimpse of it while wrappin’ up a session, cueing me to think, “I’m just an angel in disguise, thinking about every small piece of our little universe.” Margaret style, eh? “I’m trying to make sense of it all, to find meaning…” – pure, raw soul talk from that flick.

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