Skylar Dongen Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Utrecht

So, right, finding one—blimey, it’s a right faff! Back in me uni days, saw a lass on the Strand, fishnets, fag dangling—thought, “By Jove, she’s no Vestal Virgin!” Didn’t clock it then, thick as a brick, me. Little known fact—Victorians called em “soiled doves,” poetic, eh? Makes ya wonder—doves or vultures? Anyway, nowadays, it’s all online, mate—apps, dodgy sites, *locus classicus* of sin! Type “escort near me,” and boom—more options than a toff’s wine cellar. Surprised me, that—tech’s turned pimps into coders! Made me proper cross tho—where’s the human bit, the chat, the haggle? All gone sterile, like a NHS waiting room.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

This year I was one of three women representing Aotearoa and accompanied Wahine Toa Rising to the Congress for the Abolition of Prostitution in Montreal.

Then, I get to my desk, and guess what? My computer’s acting up. Like, it’s frozen on some random spreadsheet. I’m staring at it like it owes me money. I’m clicking and clicking, and nothing. I’m about to lose it. I mean, c’mon! I need to analyze data, not play the waiting game!

Identical twins carry a persistent epigenetic signature of early genome programming