Are you an ex-stripper trying to get it together by kicking the meth and oxycontin? Tired of your boyfriend you met at the strip club, that cop, always beating the shit out of you? Can’t afford enough tattoos to cover your bruises and track marks? Welcome to Texas! You know, where you were born and raised! It’s too bad you live in a country where being born poor nearly guarantees you’ll be a single mom and a high school dropout and that you’ll be forced into stripping at some grim joint near the airport, it’s the only thing that pays better than WalMart.
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