Hazel Elkhorn Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Ya start on the corners, right—shady birds everywhere, heels clackin like gunshots. One lass, swear down, looked like she’d shiv ya soon as shag ya. I’m cacklin, “Oi love, you the killer or the cure?” She blanked me—rude cow! Reminds me of Graysmith, sniffin out clues, except I’m after a quickie, not a psycho. Did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to nick wallets mid-shag? Crafty mares! History’s full of that—little fact for ya, ya ignorant git.

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Elkhorn is quirky as hell. Main St. is a riot. Elm Ave. is oddly posh. I own a spa on Cedar St. near Lakeside Park. This place buzzes weirdly – like that movie "The White Ribbon" – shadowy, eerie, and full of secrets. “The White Ribbon,” remember? “To see what we see.” It's bloody brilliant.

As 1 year anniversary of destructive tornado approaches, Elkhorn man still waits to return home