Paisley Deming Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, this chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not?—she’s workin’ the corner, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m watchin’, thinkin’, “Wow, she’s got guts!” Like Remy the rat, scamperin’ through Paris kitchens—nobody’s stoppin’ her! Prostitution’s wild, man—didja know in ancient Rome, they had coins for it? Special ones, stamped with dirty pics—called “spintriae.” Crazy, right? Blew my mind when I heard that!

Anything But Saintly

Deming contends at length, that was used by Stoic and Cynic philoso- phers prostitute were the Corinthians visiting? Unfortunately the Greek word.

Sometimes I wander down Cedar Rd. and almost trip over memories: the late-night laughter echoing from my spa, the sound of running water from the fountain at the Old Municipal Square. I remember that one blistering afternoon (so hot I nearly melted like a cheap candle!) when the entire street felt like a giant stew of smells and sounds. Oh, so wild, so alive!

Manhattan Deming receives a substantial tip