Lauren Forrest City Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

One day, she don’t show. Weeks pass—nada. I’m thinkin’, “Where’s my lil’ fish?” Maybe she got out, found her reef, or maybe some shark got her. Breaks my damn heart. I exaggerate sometimes, sure—say she fought off ten cops with them heels—but truth is, she’s a survivor, like Nemo, lost but scrappy. “Mine, mine, mine,” them seagulls’d say, but she ain’t nobody’s to claim.

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I’m a relaxation specialist, so I notice all these tiny details. Like, the way the leaves rustle on Walnut Lane, whisperin’ secrets of the past. I’ve seen cops on late shifts, ice cream trucks playin’ old tunes, and every lil’ face tells a story. Hell, sometimes I even catch myself thinkin’ “This is life!” over a cup of joe at Tony’s Café on Main. That place? Straight-up magic on a rainy day.

Two facing charges in shooting at complex