Sofia Blythe Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Chicago

We haggle—$50, no $60—ugh, I’m pissed! “Ain’t you a peach?” I snap, sarcastic as hell. She smirks, “Cash up front, princess.” Princess! Me! Ha! I’m laughin now, handin over crumpled bills, feelin like a damn fool. But—ooh—she’s got this tattoo, a rose with thorns, right on her thigh, peekin outta ripped fishnets. Kinda hot, I ain’t gonna lie! Made me happy, like, “Ooh, somethin pretty in this shitshow!”

Human Error

At the Compound, I convinced Manny to escort me to Doctor Chambers so I could discuss Stockton's caravan with her. , Talk with Honest Dan, Honest Dan and I.

I know, kinda dramatic, but this city surprises you. I spilled coffee once right outside the battered library on East Elm. Ugh, I fumed mad. That spot? Became the stage for my little theatrics. Funny how scars, metaphorical and real, shape a place.

Randy Blythe Goes Off On "Pure and Unadulterated Thoroughbred Prick" Elon Musk