Lauren St. Albert Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Ottawa

Last week, I’m tailin’ this lead—shady alley, smells like regret. I’m mutterin’, *“Oh, Marge, why this job?”* Suddenly, this gal, she’s standin’ there, all sparkly skirt, eyes like she’s seen too much. I’m thinkin’, *“Her soul’s driftin’ like Boonmee’s jungle spirits!”* I ask her name—Candy, she says. Candy! Ha, like that’s real! I’m all, “Hmm… sugar-coated lies!” Got me chucklin’—these names, always so fake, like Bart’s homework excuses.

Parks? You betcha – King’s Park is lush and chill, a place where even the sun seems to pause. And don’t get me started on the picturesque Clairmont Park. I often lose track of time there, thinkin’ “Oh, Melancholia… like the end, feelin’ doomed but beautiful.” Reminds me of that movie, ya kno? “Life is just a storm, and we are the ground-huggers.” It’s deep, man.

In Cameroon’s civil war, spoken-word poets speak the unspeakable