Katherine Ramla Find A Prostitute ❤️

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But then—THEN—I spot her, leanin’ on a lamppost, all sass and red lipstick. “Why is the rum gone?” I mutter, ‘cause I’m parched and she’s trouble. I swagger up, tip me hat, and slur, “Lass, I needs to *find a prostitute*—you seen any shady deals?” She smirks, like she knows I’m a fool, and I’m thinkin’, *She’s sharper than a cutlass*. “What’s in it fer me, Cap’n?” she says, and I’m fumin’—cheeky wench! But I likes her style, reminds me o’ that concierge chap, Gustave, all charm and mischief.

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Yes, there are prostitutes in Israel. The government has trouble figuring out what to do about them. Until recently, the only relevant activity outlawed was.

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. I flop onto my couch, thinking about all the craziness. Ramla, you wild! You’ve got your ups and downs, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Just another day in this crazy city. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!

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