Lydia Kartasura Prostitute ❤️

About Surabaya

Now, I’m gettin’ mad—why’s society gotta crap on ‘em? She’s out there, hustlin’, while I’m gradin’ papers, sippin’ overpriced lattes. “I’m alone,” ScarJo whispers in the flick, and damn, that hits. This gal’s alone too, probs. Makes me sad, then pissed—why ain’t there a union for this? Prostitute guilds! I’d join—well, no, I wouldn’t, I’d be terrible at it. “Pretty, pretty bad at solicitin’,” I’d say, trippin’ over my own feet.

Love, Loss And Longing Among Kamathipura’s Sex Workers

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First off, I hit the streets of Kartasura. You know, Jalan Raya Kartasura? It’s like the main vein of this place. Cars zooming, bikes weaving, and me just trying to not get run over. I swear, if I had a dollar for every time I almost got hit, I’d be rich.

(A) Coral pink-pigmented colonies on SAB agar; (B) Gram stain showing Gram-variable vacuolated rods.