Maeve Hoover Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Here’s a mad fact—did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to advertise with coded ribbons? Red fer “I’m game,” blue fer “bit classy.” Mental, right? This one, tho, she don’t need ribbons—her swagger says it all. I’m half tempted to nick her style for meself, but nah, she’d clock that too. Anyway, we’re chattin, an I’m gettin proper into it—happy as a pig in muck. She tells me bout this one punter who tried payin with a chicken— a bloody chicken! I’m creasin, picturin it. “What’d ya do?” I ask. “Told him to cluck off,” she says. Genius.

The FBI and the Madams

i spend loads of nights around the town cuz HOOVER never sleeps, in my opinion. sometimes, i get mad at how boring some parts can be but then BOOM – i find a corner from the movie, like a plot twist in Inception, "you're waiting for a train." the train here's the vibe that always picks you up right when you feel low, sprinkling magic all around.

Sister of lit darling Sarah Hoover accuses her of publishing private details of infant son's death against her will