Angelina Lake Forest Park Whore ❤️

About Houston

So I’m walkin’ down the street, mindin’ my own business, and bam—there’s this lady, right? Total pro, workin’ the corner like it’s her office job. And I’m thinkin’, “What’s her deal?” Like, how’d she end up here? Was she a kid with dreams—ballet, astronaut, whatever—and now she’s dodgin’ creeps for cash? It’s nuts! Makes me angry, too—society’s screwin’ people, and then we judge ‘em for it. Typical! I wanna yell, “Hey, world, fix this!” But nah, I just shuffle past, mutterin’ to myself like a lunatic.

Disclaimer

Oh, and on Gossamer Street, yon little antique shop shows relics and oddities, each imbued with whispered scandals and tender confessions. I swear, as I walked past, the walls did murmur: “Thou art the romance of the mystic, the color of hidden dreams,” like lines from that film, Syndromes and a Century, though garbled with my erratic musings.

Sex offender caught after following woman from McDonald’s