Abigail Duncan Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, findin’ a prostitute—helluva task. I ain’t talkin’ the shiny Hollywood crap. Real world’s messy, smells like cheap whiskey and regret. You start askin’ around, folks clam up. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Ron.” Liars. Every damn one. Pisses me off—makes me wanna punch a tree. But I dig deeper, like Lenny huntin’ his wife’s killer. “Remember Sammy Jankis,” he says. I say, “Remember that shady bar on 5th.”

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And the vibe? It’s raw, spontaneous, and sometimes embarrassingly honest. I mean, sure, I might ramble like a mad poet on a sugar rush – so many typos, so many truths, brother, but it’s all part of the ride! Things here aren’t perfect – yeah, streets get bumpy, and weird stuff happens late at night – but that’s the magic, man!

Duncan, Patrick Michael