Kayla Eunice Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Now, I’m gettin’ mad—why’s society gotta crap on ‘em? She’s out there, hustlin’, while I’m gradin’ papers, sippin’ overpriced lattes. “I’m alone,” ScarJo whispers in the flick, and damn, that hits. This gal’s alone too, probs. Makes me sad, then pissed—why ain’t there a union for this? Prostitute guilds! I’d join—well, no, I wouldn’t, I’d be terrible at it. “Pretty, pretty bad at solicitin’,” I’d say, trippin’ over my own feet.

A Nigerian was killed in Brussels working as a prostitute. Now, a street will be named after her

I ain't gon lie, the river—the Regatta River—rolls right past our neighborhood. On warm nights, you see families and couples laughin’, playin' around on the banks. But sometimes, a nasty storm comes up, and the damn water turns all wild. Makes ya angry, but it’s nature’s reminder that shit ain’t always perfect.

Eunice Mae Blair