Victoria Clawson Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Ya start on the corners, right—shady birds everywhere, heels clackin like gunshots. One lass, swear down, looked like she’d shiv ya soon as shag ya. I’m cacklin, “Oi love, you the killer or the cure?” She blanked me—rude cow! Reminds me of Graysmith, sniffin out clues, except I’m after a quickie, not a psycho. Did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to nick wallets mid-shag? Crafty mares! History’s full of that—little fact for ya, ya ignorant git.

About this business

While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas .

I tell ya, Clawson ain’t perfect. Nah, there are corners that make your skin crawl—the abandoned lot on Elm that reeks of lost dreams (so sorry, not sorry, but it’s raw truth). I got mad once, walking past, cuz those cracks in the pavement spoke of our neglect. But then, like in a reel, beauty emerges—rustle of wind, echo of laughter from a nearby little diner (Joe’s Diner, fyi, totally dope!).

Steve "Pickle" Clawson Obituary