Ivy Connell Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Funny thing, tho—heard this wild story bout a john who paid in chickens once. Chickens! I’m dyin, yall, imaginin him cluckin up the stairs. Prolly smelled like a barn too—gross! Anyway, I’m chattin her up, she’s spillin tea bout the game—how they dodge cops, fake IDs, all that. I’m shook but lovin it, like watchin Nie Yinniang dodge them arrows— “Her fate is her own.”

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Over by Riverside Park – ain't that a name? – there's always some trippy scene goin’ on. People loungin’, dogs barkin’, kids runnin’, and even me takin’ a breather from the daily grind. I sometimes swear the river sings like one of them eerie tunes from “Leviathan.” “Motherf***er, it's like the damned river is whisperin’ secrets!”

National Championship Watch Party Monday in O’Connell Center