Skylar Papatoetoe Prostitute ❤️

About Hamilton

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, sittin’ here, deep voice rumblin’ like a storm brewin’ over the mountains, tellin’ ya ‘bout this prostitute I came across in my detective days. Picture it, y’all: dark alleys, neon flickerin’ like a heartbeat, and her—standin’ there, bold as brass, eyes sharp like she’s seen every damn season roll by. “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring”—my fave flick, ya know—kinda colors how I see her. Life’s a cycle, man, and she’s spinnin’ through it, hustlin’, survivin’.

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First off, I’m a refractor, which sounds fancy but really just means I fix glasses. You know, the whole “I can’t see without my specs” vibe. Anyway, I’m cruising down Great South Road, and I’m already late. Classic me. I swear, if I had a dollar for every time I was late, I’d be rich enough to buy a new car instead of this old rust bucket.

Bus driver stood down after alleged assault leads to death