Post from Denver Six Shooter

So there are times in a girl's life when she is...Hmmm, how can I put this delicately? Hookin' poor. Not that I actually went the route of hawking my God goodies for a little dough. The pittance that the sort of men who would pursue this pootang for pay wouldn't be enough to make it worth eternal damnation. Selling my sex is on par with selling my soul. At least that is what the nuns always told me. So instead, I am simply selling out. Hawking ...