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About Houston

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

Aphrodite and Temple Prostitution in Corinth

Aren't you aware of the fact that when anyone sleeps with a prostitute he becomes a part of her, and she becomes a part of him? For it has been declared: The.

Know this, I do: neighborhoods like Willow Run, they got secrets, friend. Parks? Happy little gems, like Maple Grove Park, where I sit n’ code and swipe. River? Ah, the winding creek by Riverview Drive it sings low tunes, like those melancholic chords in a blues riff—never ceasing.

Corinth Library's future comes into focus in Prairie Village