Ellie Sappington Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, findin a prostitute? Wild, y’all. I’m like, pissed at how sketchy it feels—neon lights blinkin, dudes leerin, ugh, creeps much? But also, kinda hyped? The thrill’s real, like when I wrote “Bad Blood” after a fight. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, prostitutes in Paris used to signal clients with red lanterns—OG mood lighting, lol. Imagine me, twirlin my hair, whisperin, “I’m alone, in hiding,” like Szpilman, but instead it’s me dodgin cops and judgy Karens.

Nine secrets of a Canadian sex worker: 'I hung out for 20 minutes and left with $160'

Then there’s Oakwood Park on 3rd Ave. It's a hidden gem, mostly chill peeps hangin’ there. Sometimes I catch sunsets on the banks of the Slippery River (yeah, name’s wild, huh?) – water flows like daddy’s secrets. I once got so Zen there, almost drifted off mid-massage session in my head!

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