Ivy Howell Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

I’m sittin’ there, pole shakin’, thinkin’, “Do I holler at her?” My heart’s racin’ like a catfish on a line—happy, scared, all at once. She winks, and I’m redder than a boiled crawdad. I mutter, “What can I do for you?”—straight outta Gigolo Joe’s playbook! She laughs, says, “Honey, I ain’t cheap, but I’m fun!” I’m thinkin’, “Lord, I only got worms and a soggy sammich!” Ain’t that just my luck? Here I am, big dreamer, no cash, just a pole and a prayer.

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I stroll by Maple Ave sometimes. It’s so quaint; the trees are beyond lush. There’s this park, Howell Grove, right near the river, Yates Creek. The water is like a sassy mirror. Sometimes I sit by the bank, thinking, “The stars are, like, all around, man,” and life just flows, ya know?

Howell Valley 8th graders help plant tree at MSU-WP for Arbor Day