Stella Greentree Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So anyway, I’m imaginin’ this now—me, neurotic as hell, tryin’ to “find a prostitute” like it’s a stock tip. I’d overthink it—disease risks, legal crap, am I gettin’ scammed? I’d be yellin’ at my phone, “Gimme a sign, dammit!” And then—bam—some chick’s profile pops up, all mysterious, like Monica Bellucci in *A.I.*—and I’m like, “Whoa, too hot, abort mission!” I’d freak out, spill my coffee, total Larry David meltdown. “I can’t do this, I’m too old!”

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You broke the ropes I used to hold you and said, 'I will not serve you!' In fact, on every high hill and under every green tree you lay down as a prostitute.

My fave hideout is Zen Alley. Not many peeps know it. It's a narrow path behind Old Clock Tower. So mysterious, so chill. I scribbled poems there once. Feel free to find your inner snazzy self.

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