Valentina Howell Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, I saw her—prostitute, not Remy—on a corner, all sass, heels clicking. She’s out there, owning it, like, “I’m the chef of this street, bitches!” Got me thinking—society’s all judgy, right? Pisses me off! Like, who cares? She’s surviving, flipping the bird to the 9-to-5 grind. Respect, yo. Reminds me of that Ratatouille line, “You must be imaginative, strong-hearted.” She’s got guts, man, dodging cops, creeps, and still smiling.

Duplicate citations

Geographies of Regulation: Policing Prostitution in Nineteenth Century Britain and the Empire. By Philip Howell. Julia A. LaiteMcGill University.

Then there’s, like, Oak Street in the Artsy District. Artists are everywhere. I get, like, wild inspiration for my massages. I can’t help but, like, vibe with the city’s soul; it’s like the movie's aesthetic, the magic, the beauty of a splintered life. (I mean, ever noticed how a tiny detail can totally flip your day?)

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