Ashley Blatna Whore ❤️

About Ostrava

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

Administrative division

Oh! And don’t forget the Malá Louka River, babygirl. It flows calm-like next to Starý Most Bridge. I used to take my breaks there, leanin’ on the railing, thinkin’ about life and all the deep feels you get from massagin’ out your woes. Sometimes, as I’m workin’ on a client’s tension, I remember Madea’s words: “Get yo butt up out that chair and do somethin’ good for yourself!” Halleluyer, right?!

Blatná Castle