Addison Foothill Ranch Prostitute ❤️

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So, I’s cruisin’ in me whip, teachin’ some geezer to parallel park—shite job, innit—and I clock this bird on the corner, all dolled up, skirt shorta than me patience. I’s like, “Bruv, she’s graftin’ harder than me on a Monday!” Made me laff, but then I got vexed—why’s she gotta do that, eh? Is it ‘cos I is black? Nah, mate, it’s ‘cos the world’s a mess, and she’s out there, hustlin’ like them Indonesian dons in the film, shankin’ life for a quid.

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You know what? There’s a small park on 17th Street, a real gem. I used to meet some cuties over there – dreamy vibes, ya know? Then, we got the local landmark, The Ranch Landings. Aight, it’s like a center of energy – folks runnin’ round, mixin’ cultures. It kinda gets me right in the feels, reminds me of that line from The Turin Horse, “And nothing remains except for the brutal truth.” Wild, huh?

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