Valentina Beebe Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

So, prostitutes—where’d ya even start? Back in the day, like 1800s London, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—fancy, huh? Kinda sad too. Makes me mad thinkin’ how they got no choice sometimes. I’m walkin’ down this sketchy alley—R2-D2, where you at, buddy?!—and there’s this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a wall. “Hey, goldenrod,” she says, smirkin’. I’m like, what, me? Goldenrod? That’s some Star Wars-level shade!

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I was able to get this book after learning about it on the Beebe Ranch tour. Very excited to be able to read it. It's out of print so very happy.

Then there's Mulberry Lane. Oh my gosh, that lane is so low-key and artsy. I sometimes take my breaks there, walking with my head buzzing about my clients and my own vibes. It almost feels like the characters in that film, struggling to decipher the chaos of life while chasing truth. Sometimes, I'd be thinkin, "man, Carl! this is just cosmic!"—did I just say that? Heh, sorry, not sorry.

Beebe and Hallan recognized for Exceptional Moments in Teaching