Amelia Papillion Whore ❤️

About New York City

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

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Papillon is a French autobiographic novel by Henri Charrière. The author reportedly spent the years to in various prisons on a murder conviction. Charrière, better known as .

The rivers, pfft, ain’t all glitzy like the big ones, but the Mill Creek cuts through like a secret streak of destiny down the eastern side. I've seen locals skip stones on it, like ignoring the heavy truths for a hot minute.

Athlete of the Week: Papillion La Vista South’s Bryson Bahl