Rebecca Progress Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

You got these girls, right? Standin’ on corners, fishnets up to their asses, smokin’ Pall Malls like it’s 1985. I roll up, window down, and it’s like, “What am I, a fuckin’ ATM?” Prices nowadays—Madonn’, inflation’s hittin’ the hookers too! Back in the day, you’d slip ‘em a twenty, maybe a meatball sub, and boom, done deal. Now they want fifty, sixty, talkin’ bout “gas prices.” Bitch, you ain’t drivin’ nowhere, you’re standin’ there! Made me mad as hell, but I laugh—fuck it, it’s Jersey, whaddya expect?

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

Man, I’ve walked through the narrow byways near Treetop zone. They’re crazy and twisty. I swear my legs knew the curve before my eyes saw them. I tell ya, every street in Progress (us) has its own soul. Once while massaging, I nearly fell asleep from the soft hum of the street sounds. I was like, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?!" again and again; it’s just so random sometimes.

ByGone Muncie: Sharps’ Progress, Soccum and the Richwood Crossing