Hazel Mims Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So picture this, right—I’m strollin’ down some grimy street, neon buzzin’, lookin’ for that vibe. Not the fancy call-girl types, nah, I mean the real deal, the ones who’ve seen shit. Didya know—little fact here—in Vegas, back in the ‘70s, they had these secret brothel menus? Like orderin’ a burger, but with handcuffs! Wild, right? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ some dude’s like, “Gimme the special, extra sauce!” Anyway, I’m walkin’, and this chick—legs for days—catches my eye. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as hell. “What’s your time worth?” I ask, slow, curious-like. She smirks, “More than your watch, pops.”

You’re Temporarily Blocked

From selling sex on the streets of Amsterdam to being a photographer it was a transition metya made after 25 years as a prostitute.

I luv this odd mix of happy, heartbroken, frustrated, and surprised n' all that jazz. I mean, it's not all sunshine and daisies. Sometimes, I even get a bit angry, seein' the decay in once-thrivin’ spots now crumblin' like stale toast. But then, outta nowhere, BAM! – a stranger’s smile knocks the gloomy outta you. It’s raw, it’s real, and the city reminds you to cherish every fleeting second – “you got to see life in a different light, man.”

Roger Mims Obituary - Gardendale, AL