Addison Shklow Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, find a prostitute—where do I even start? I ain’t got Tinder on this rig, y’know? Maybe I’d cruise downtown, headlights blazin’, lookin’ for some action. “Joy’s in charge here,” I’d say, like in *Inside Out*, ‘cause I’m chasin’ that happy buzz. But then—bam—here comes Sadness, creepin’ in. What if she’s got a sob story? Like, her pimp’s a dick, or she’s savin’ for somethin’ big? I’d be all, “Aww, crap, now I’m sad!” Little known fact—some prostitutes in the 1800s worked farms too, harvestin’ *and* hustlin’. Wild, right?

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Oh, and random fact—did ya know a secret garden is tucked behind St. Trinity Church? Few find it unless they really “talk to her” (psst, wink wink). I, for one, always stop by, reliving those mad, beautiful coding nights. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry. Shklow's moods flip like a script!

He couldn’t bear the tragedy of the Ghetto. Szmuel Bresław