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About Half Way Tree

So, here’s the deal, mate. Prostitution’s old as dirt—fact! Babylonians had temple hookers, sacred as priests. Wild, right? Nowadays, it’s apps, back alleys, or those sketchy massage joints. You gotta know the signs—lingerie flashin under neon, sly nods. Pisses me off tho—cops bustin girls, not the creeps runnin em. Hypocrisy stinks worse than week-old fish.

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FYI-the women at the parties in high heel shoes are prostitutes. they are very easy to notice.

After the pitch, I’m walkin’ down to the Hip Strip. I need a drink. I stop at a bar, order a Red Stripe, and just chill. The music’s bumpin’, and I’m vibin’. But then, I see this guy tryin’ to dance. I mean, bless his heart, but he’s got two left feet. I can’t help but laugh.

I Will Never Shut Up About My Trip to Breathless Montego Bay