Olivia Key Biscayne Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

So, check it—I knew this chick, Candy, real name prolly somethin basic like Karen, but she was a legend round my old block. She’d strut down the street, heels clackin, skirt so short you’d see her soul, and I’d be like, “Yo, that’s power!” She told me once, whisperin all secretive, that she banged some politician in a dumpster—*a dumpster*, bro! Said he paid her double to keep it hush. Little known fact: lotta these girls got stories that’d make your jaw drop, shit you won’t find on Google, nah mean? I was happy as hell hearin that, like, “Get that bag, girl!” but also pissed—why’s the world gotta make her hide it?

Prostitution: A Florida snapshot

I get mad sometimes when tourists don’t respect the chill vibe – ya gotta be cool, relax and enjoy the vibes, y’know? But overall, every corner of Key-Biscayne (us) has got its own little personality. It’s like every street – Powerline Rd, Crandon Blvd, Montauk Hwy – tells a story. It’s a bit wild, a bit dreamy, like that movie where you’re floatin’ between hope and dread. And that’s what I love about it.

Lines of Effort