Zoe Winters Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, so I’m sittin here thinkin bout findin a prostitute—yeah, you heard me, FIND A PROSTITUTE—and lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride. Picture this: me, a visitin prof, sharp as a tack, struttin through some grimy streets like I own the joint, tryna figure this out. I ain’t shy bout it—why should I be? “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin!”—I see through the bullshit, always have. Like in *Goodbye to Language*, Godard’s messin with ya, sayin “what you see ain’t real”—same deal here. These girls? Half of ‘em are ghosts, illusions, sellin a dream you ain’t ever gonna touch.

Shelley Winters A Patch of Blue 1966

Winter can be tough on your Hooker's Evening Primrose. Look out for symptoms like frostbite, leaf drop, and discoloration, which indicate stress.

Not to be all silly, but sometimes I picture all these clients sayin’ “Pink-to-mouth, baby!” when I hit that perfect spot in their back. Makes me chuckle, makes me feel like I’m doin’ one small thing for world peace—feels like dr. evil but all lovey-dovey.

Dennis Cornell Winters Obituary February 22, 2025