Anastasia Hamilton Worcester Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout whores - Hannibal Lecter style, ya know, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” So, whores, man, they’re everywhere, like shadows creepin in the dusk, kinda like that slow burn in *Once Upon a Time in Anatolia* – ya don’t see em comin till they’re right there, starin ya down. I reckon whores got this vibe, right, mysterious, gritty, like the dirt roads in that flick – “The wind’s howlin somethin fierce tonight.” Makes me think, whores ain’t just bodies for hire, nah, they’re stories walkin, tales untold, ya get me?

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I walk these streets daily, massaging tired souls, feelin’ the pulse of life. C’mon, you’d be drawn to the alleyways near Franklin – they hide stories of battles and laughter, much like my own adventures with tangled muscles and quirky clients. It’s so raw, so real, and damn, it reminds me: "Let’s put a smile on that face!" (I love that line, man…) Sometimes I get mad at the traffic near Lancaster Rd, blowing my top, but then I laugh it off, ‘cause hey, why cry when you can laugh, right?

Henry Prunier Obituary March 17, 2013