Elizabeth Midway Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So I walk up, all cool, like, “Yo, what’s good?” She smirks, says somethin’ sassy—prolly calls me “sugar” or some shit. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This chick’s a trip!” Reminds me of Joe dancin’ with them dames—smooth as fuck. But here’s the kicker—turns out she’s got a fake leg, right? Peg leg hooker, motherfucker! Swear to God, blew my damn mind. I’m like, “That’s some next-level texture right there!” Scratches, dents—shit I’d kill to model in 3D. She catches me starin’, goes, “What, you into prosthetics, freak?” I’m dyin’, man—humor’s dark as hell.

All About Me

www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up Missing: Midway.

Yo, for real, Midway (us) isn’t perfect. It got grit & grime & sparkle. Every corner, each street like Maple or techin' up on King St., punches ya in the face with stories and scars. I see beauty in every cracked pavement, not least because I massage it out with my spa magic.

Midway Bakery owners almost walked away from beloved family business — here’s why they stayed