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About Haifa

But here’s the kicker—makes me mad as a bag o’ ferrets! Some blokes treated these gals like dirt, tossin’ shillings like they’re feedin’ ducks. Pissed me right off! I’m all about the luv, yeah? Treat ‘em groovy, that’s my motto. Babs, tho, she’s cool—she’s got stories, man. Says she once nicked a toff’s wallet mid-shag, spent it all on fish n’ chips. Laughed my bloody arse off—proper cheeky! Surprised me, too—didn’t think a prossie’d be that quick on the draw. “Sins stay hidden,” Haneke’d whisper, but Babs? She’s loud n’ proud, baby!

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Julia Anderson's Dear John, The Diary of a Prostitute is a set of letters she imagines writing to different people in her life over the years, all addressed to.

First off, I hit the road on Main St. You know, the one that’s always packed with cars and those annoying cyclists? Yeah, that one. I’m cruisin’, and suddenly, BAM! Traffic jam. Like, what the heck? Turns out, some dude decided to park his truck right in the middle of the street. I mean, c’mon, man! This ain’t a parking lot! I’m sittin’ there, fuming, thinking about how I’m gonna be late for my first delivery.

Another Intensive, Life-Saving Sign of Coexistence