Elise Sutton Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About New York City

So here’s the deal—findin’ a prostitute ain’t just point and click. Nah, it’s a hustle. Back in the ‘80s, you’d cruise Times Square, dodge the cops, spot the girls in fishnets—real gritty shit. Now? It’s all digital, man—apps, burner phones, coded ads on sketchy sites. Blows my mind how fast it flipped. Used to be you’d haggle right there, cash in hand, feelin’ like a king. “The point is, ladies and gentlemen, greed works!”—damn right it does. I’d scope ‘em out, pick the one with the sharpest eyes—none of that strung-out *Requiem* vibe, no “I’m so fucked” desperation for me.

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Now—parks! Check out Redwood Park. It’s so rad. I get lost there, like, literally. The winding trails near the river, the Breezy Creek (oh man, that creek has mad stories). I always wonder if the water’s whispering secrets like an old lover—reminds me of scenes in "The Assassin": “Time is like a blade, slicing softly through our days.” Yeah, that.

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