Brooklyn Loos Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Nice

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, finding a prossie, eh? Been there, done that, got the bloody t-shirt. Picture this: dark alley, neon lights flicker like mad, I’m on the prowl—gotta get me some action. Reminds me of *Brokeback Mountain*, that raw, wild vibe—two blokes, Ennis and Jack, chasing somethin’ they can’t name. “I wish I knew how to quit you,” Ennis’d say—me, I’m just tryna quit dodgin’ these shady corners!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

In making men pay to use me while thinking I had the upper hand, I allowed them to destroy me, to degrade my desire for real intimacy and to sacrifice a decade.

I get mad sometimes at the bureaucracy of local government—arrgh, all the permits for that vintage arcade on Boulevard des Rêves (yeah, dreams, baby!) are a mess. But then, I'm all like, "ouch, this everyday struggle is art." It’s raw, unpredictable, and strictly authentic—a living canvas as if each moment echoes “everything is not lost” in an oh-so-weird but human way.

Donald A. Loos Obituary February 5, 2025