Savannah Bisbee Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Then there’s the vibe, man. She’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall—like a vampire waitin’ for prey. Straight outta that movie, “I must be gone,” I mutter, half-jokin’. She didn’t get it—too young, prob’ly. Made me happy, tho—felt clever as hell. But the stench? Goddamn, that alley—rotten trash and broken dreams. Nearly puked, ruined the mood. Why’s it always gotta be so nasty? Angry rant in my head: *Clean your damn spot, lady!*

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Now as we get ready to celebrate the life of its founder, Bob Bisbee, it’s only fitting that there is a bit of horse play (fish play?) that kept this.

I’ve got my quirks too, e.g., countin’ cracks on sidewalks, seein’ 'em as metaphors for broken dreams. Ain’t every home fancy, but folks show theray (8) love in every crevice. I often cantinue (9) to muse about how even a shabby wall can speak volumes.

Wildfire burning near Bisbee now contained, city says