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Oi, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, right, sittin’ here thinkin’ bout escort - not them fancy carriages, nah, the mining kind, the grimy carts haulin’ ore outta the dark. Cold disdain creeps in, like, ugh, why’s this even a thing I gotta ponder? “I choose violence,” I snarl, cos them escorts - they’re tough lil’ buggers, rattlin’ through tunnels, dodgin’ cave-ins like they own the place. Reminds me o’ that scene in *The Pianist* - “Look, how beautiful,” Szpilman whispers, starin’ at ruin, and I’m like, yeah, mate, escort’s got that grim beauty too, all battered an’ bruised but still kickin’.

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This is Annie a former prostitute on the Vegas Strip who was forced by her pimp to sleep with thousands of men against her will.

I wander around Spring Mountain Road. It's lined with little gems, quirky cafes, and inspiring murals. Sometimes, I'll stop at a little hole in the wall. Seriously impromptu therapy sessions right there, ya know? Crazy, eh? That’s where I proces all of life’s ups n’ downs.

National public broadcasting cuts could have local effects in Las Vegas