Megan Clarion Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

But lemme tell ya, Ruby’s got grit. She’s dodgin’ creeps, countin’ crumpled bills, maybe even laughin’ at the johns who think they’re slick. I heard this wild tale once—some hooker in Paris, 1800s, kept a diary. Scribbled how she’d charm rich dudes, then nick their pocket watches. A real watchmaker’s nightmare, ha! She’d sell ‘em, buy herself wine, live a lil. That’s Ruby too, I bet—sly, survivin’. “There’s somethin’ here we can’t see,” like Haneke whispers in that movie. Secrets in her smirk.

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The Smell of Mud: The journals of a prostitute help a young girl learn what it means to overcome hardship and become an independent woman. The sex trade has been a favorite theme of .

So, lemme start at Main St. near Bedford Avenue—it’s wacky busy and so full life. I used to walk there wit my mind racin’, thinking "This is my moment, like Requiem for a Dream, yeah baby!" HA! I tell ya, that movie got me hooked, so I say "Dream on, dream on!" every time I feel the city’s heartbeat.

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