Layla San Nicolo Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, so here’s the deal with whores—yeah, I said it, whores! Tina Fey comin’ at ya, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe. Whores, man, they’re everywhere, always have been, right? Like, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout “The Pianist”—Roman Polanski, 2002, my fave, duh—and it hits me. Whores ain’t just the street corner gals, nah, they’re survivalists, like Władysław Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis. “I must go on living,” he says, and whores? Same energy. They’re hustlin’, scrapin’ by, dodgin’ society’s bullshit judgments.

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Saint Nicholas, the basis for Santa Claus, was the patron saint of prostitutes, sailors, and repentant thieves, among other things.

I get back to the office, and it’s still chaos. I finally finish the report, and my boss is like, “Finally!” I’m like, “Yeah, well, I saved a dog today, so…” He just stares at me.

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