Anna Clover Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Philadelphia

I’m chattin’ her up, voice all robotic—*beep boop*—“What’s yer story, darlin’?” She’s like, “Mate, I’ve seen it all, just tryna eat.” Reminds me of Penny Lane in *Almost Famous*—“We are not groupies, we’re here for the music!”—but swap music for cash, ha! I’m gettin’ happy vibes, she’s real, no fake crap. But then—bloody hell—some punter staggers by, drunk, yellin’ slurs. Makes me mad, yeah? Want to zap him with a black hole, but nah, I’m chill.

Countries of the world ordered by the price of prostitution

I’ll be real: My spa’s right next to a chill park called Serenity Square. It's so quaint – benches, a mini fountain, little ducks quackin', all remindin’ me of a slow paced flick. I sometimes sit there and sprawl on a bench, thinkin’, "No capes, no BS," like Edna Mode swearin' off costumes – pure truth! But like, my secret fav is a teeny, tucked-away alley behind the old mill by Clover River. Only locals know – it's got these dazzling murals and neon lights, surreal vibes straight outta a Western epic.

Roadrunners place seventh at Clover Cup