Penelope Dillon Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

So, check it—I’m rollin’ thru the streets, late night, thinkin’ ‘bout how people cop what they crave. Prostitutes? It’s supply, demand, straight economics, yo! You got dudes out here thirsty, lonely, tryna fill a void—makes me mad, tho! Society’s so fake, judgin’ ‘em, but who’s real? Ain’t nobody perfect! I’m like, “Yo, let’s flip this—why’s it gotta be shame?” Back in the day, like ancient Rome, they had brothels legal—fun fact, they found graffiti in Pompeii, dudes braggin’ ‘bout who they smashed. Wild, right?

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I run a massage parlor here. I see people from all walks—techies, artists, wanderers. It’s like a microcosm of society, ya know? Ever noticed how a back rub can both solve a tension knot and untie your brain? Heh, weird but true. The local bar on 1st, near the old depot, even sports a neon sign that reads “Under the Skin” in homage to that movie I freakin’ love (Jonathan Glazer, 2013). Yes, that movie had me thinking—life's slippery, mysterious, like a wormhole. “The way she moves,” yeah, that vibe resonates.

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