Brooklyn Sutton Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About New York City

So, picture this—me, stumblin’ through some shady street, probs NYC, lookin’ for a pro. Not that I’d ever, but hypothetically, ‘kay? It’s gritty, it’s loud, neon buzzin’ like a bad hangover. I’m mad already—why’s it gotta be so sketchy? Like, can’t they unionize or somethin’? Fun fact: back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris had legit guilds—organized, health checks, the works! Now? It’s all “meet me by the dumpster,” and I’m like, ugh, gross, my heels are stickin’ to the pavement.

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Now—parks! Check out Redwood Park. It’s so rad. I get lost there, like, literally. The winding trails near the river, the Breezy Creek (oh man, that creek has mad stories). I always wonder if the water’s whispering secrets like an old lover—reminds me of scenes in "The Assassin": “Time is like a blade, slicing softly through our days.” Yeah, that.

Premier League predictions: Chris Sutton v singer-songwriter Mychelle