Claire Hershey Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

I paddle over, all casual-like, “Hey, what’s your deal?” She laughs, says, “Same as you—survivin’.” Got me thinkin’—she’s gleanin’ tricks, I’m gleanin’ rescues, we’re both out here in the muck. Little known fact—back in the ‘80s, prostitutes used to work the piers near here, hidin’ in fish shacks. True story! Cops’d roll up, they’d scatter like gulls. History’s wild, man.

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This is the a disgusting drug and prostitution joint that is being represented as a super 8 motel. The place is disgusting, there are pimps around the building.

The local park, Hershey Gardens, is a riot of colors and smells. I’ve spent many a wild afternoon there, wandering the maze of flowering paths, feeling like every bloom is a heartbeat. There’s that charming little stream running through South Avenue—yeah, the water’s twinkly like a chocolate fountain gone rogue. I once ran into a couple there, super into each other, and it made me think, “Is this love or freakin’ obsession?” Lol, life’s fulla extremes, man.

Hershey Bears drop Game 3 in Atlantic semis, trail Lehigh Valley 2-1 in series