Claire Irondale Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Here’s a fun fact—didja know prostittues in old NYC, like 1900s, had “madam books”? Lists of clients! Imagine me in one—Larry David, “neurotic complainer, bad tipper.” I’d be furious! “Who’s readin’ this? J. Edgar Hoover?” Anyway, I’m standin’ there, starin’, and she’s like, “You lost, pal?” Lost? Me? I’m a freakin’ mess! I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t *Brooklyn*—no one’s savin’ me!” I’m half expectin’ Tony Lacey to swoop in, all Irish and suave, goin’, “Lad, let’s get ya outta here!”

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I "accidentally" hired a prostitute while traveling in Thailand. After living in co-ed dorm style hostels for a few weeks with no alone time, I decided it was time to visit one of the nearby massage .

Down on Maple Street, the cafe at 12B has the nerdiest vibes. Its outside table is where I chill and watch fools rush in. Later, I hit Ironwood Park – a green oasis in this bloody concrete mess. Trees everywhere, birds chirpin’ like they’re in a Broadway musical.

Vigil to be held for fallen Irondale police officer Mark Meadows