Julia Constant Spring Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Savanna-la-Mar

Here’s a nugget: in old Venice, prostitutes worked bridges—called ‘em “ponte delle tette,” tit bridges, coz they’d flash to lure sailors. Wish I’d been there, sippin’ wine, watchin’ the show! Beats skulkin’ round Flea Bottom, dodgin’ rats and cutthroats. Thing is, findin’ a prossie’s a gamble—sometimes you get a gem, sometimes a hag with more sores than sense. “What’s done is done,” like they say in the movie—once you’re in, no backin’ out. Surprised me once, this one gal knew riddles—smart as me, nearly. Kept her an extra hour just to chat. Rare, that.

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“Sex with a prostitute,” McCann said, “seems very contrived.” It has none of the elements of a real relationship – or an affair, for that matter.

Finally, the day wraps up, and I’m heading home. I take a detour through the neighborhood, cruising down the back roads. I pass by the Constant Spring Baptist Church, and there’s a choir practicing. Their voices are so beautiful, it almost makes me forget about the goat. Almost.

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