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About Spanish Town

So, I’m cruisin’ downtown, wood dust still on my jeans, thinkin’, “What separates a man from a dog?”—straight from the movie, hits deep. I spot her—red heels, skirt short as my temper, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. I’m like, “Damn, she’s workin’ harder than me on a deadline!” Made me chuckle—prostitutes got grit, y’know? Little known fact: back in the ‘20s, carpenter unions sometimes hired ‘em to keep workers happy on big jobs. Wild, right?

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To tell you the truth, I'm Alex. I'm immersed in Mandeville culture and find-a-prostitute is wonderful! I want to dance with you under the moonlight. Life is.

After that, I needed a break. So I stepped outside, took a breath. The air was hot, but the vibe was nice. I could hear the sounds of Mandeville – kids laughin’, people chattin’ on the corner of Main St. It’s a small town, but it’s got heart.

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