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But here’s the kicker—makes me mad, too. These girls, they ain’t all livin’ large. Most are broke, strung out, or runnin’ from somethin’. Reminds me of Eli in the movie, that line: “I don’t kill people.” Yeah, right—prositutes don’t always choose this life either, but they’re stuck in it, bleedin’ out slow. Don’t pee on my leg and say it’s glamorous—it ain’t. Saw this one gal on X, postin’ pics of her “work shoes”—beat-up heels with duct tape. Laughed my ass off, then felt bad. Dark humor, ya feel me?

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Sexologist in attendance. Restricted premises, persons must be over 18 years of age to enter.

I remember one dusk, strollin' down Hill Street, almost bumped into an ex-lover. That kiss? Sweet chaos, like confetti on my lips – mad insane fun. Aren’t ya diggin’ this? So many covert nooks for hearts to sneak secrets and souls to dance with. And yeah, in the Western End, near the old pub on Rothwell Street, there's always chatter 'bout scandalous rendez-vous and every whispered secret sparks a belly laugh.

‘Genuine nice bloke’: Crash victim identified as community mourns