Madison Hartstown Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dublin

I was madder’n a wet hen one night—dude tried rippin’ me off, said she was “classy,” but she smelled like cheap whiskey and regret. Reminded me of Christian chasin’ that dream—ya think it’s all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” but nope! Sometimes it’s just a hustle, y’all. I hollered, “Boy, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Made me wanna spit nails, I swear. But then—Lordy!—I found this one gal, sweet as pecan pie, and I was happier’n a pig in mud. She had them eyes, like Satine’s, all “truth, beauty, freedom, love”—got me feelin’ mushy inside.

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Now, Hartstown Plaza is a whole vibe. It’s got that big fountain in the middle, and people just chill there. I get there, and Dave’s car is just sittin’ there, lookin’ sad. I pop the hood, and it’s a mess. I’m no mechanic, but I can tell it’s not good. I’m like, “Bro, you need a new ride.” He just shrugs.

Progress on Hartstown abandoned site welcomed