Zoey Syke Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, late night, headlights bouncin’ off them sketchy corners. Ain’t no fancy apps back in the day, nah, you had to *feel* it out. Like Graysmith in *Zodiac*, sniffin’ clues, I’m squintin’ at every alley. “Is that her? Nah, that’s a dude.” Made me mad as hell—wastin’ time, gas, my dang patience! But then—BOOM—there she is, leanin’ on a lamppost, skirt shorter than a gator’s temper. Happy don’t even cover it, y’all—I’m hollerin’ like a hog at a barbecue.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Nah, I got a couple of typos in my head – err, brain – like, I’m in a rush, dude: so many details, so much heart! I mend a family, then I wander, then I'm pondering life, and sometimes I feel like saying “Lightbulb!” as if a sudden idea pops, ya know?

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