Emilia Fallon Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Philadelphia

So, check this—did ya know, back in the day, like 1800s, some prostitutes in Paris were bankin’ more than doctors? True story! Blows my mind. Imagine that—sneakin’ around, dodgin’ cops, and still stackin’ coins. Makes me happy thinkin’ bout that kinda grit. But then, ugh, the pimps—those sleazy jerks piss me off. Takin’ cuts, ruinin’ lives. Hate that crap.

So you want to book a sex worker?

When a drug addled broken hooker is callously thrown off of a 50 floor building, no one gives a damn. That is until Anya Wade comes to town. Desperate to find.

Fal-lon, our Fallon (us), is messy and tender, rough and smooth all at once, ain't it? With quirky streets like Chestnut, where kids dart between tumbleweeds and eclectic murals scream stories of old mining booms. Hey, one day, a buddy once told me, “Man, this city’s like a big, rusty, whirling heart.” I sobbed laughily, yes, saw a reflection of my crazy coder soul there.

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