Rebecca Paramount Prostitute ❤️

About Los Angeles

Alright, listen up, jabroni! Raised eyebrow, “Know your role.” I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout prostitutes, and man, it’s a wild ride. Watched *The Great Beauty* again last night—damn, that flick’s got soul. Jep Gambardella, that slick bastard, floatin’ through Rome, chasin’ somethin’ real. Reminds me of a hooker I met once, swear to God, she had that same vibe. Name was Candy—yeah, cliché as hell, but stick with me. She worked the Vegas strip, glitter in her eyes, heels clickin’ like a damn metronome. Told me she’d seen it all—dudes cryin’, millionaires beggin’, even a guy who paid her to just talk. “We’re all lookin’ for somethin’,” she said, smokin’ a cig like she owned the night. Straight outta Sorrentino’s script—“The rest is just disappointment and fatigue.”

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I gotta admit, sometimes I’m rather in a corr, having my head in a fog of memories – think: laughing with locals at our quirky annual “Wacky Walkathon” (seriously, the costumes were bananas) or even crying happy tears in the quiet after a perfect massage session under those unassuming streetlights along Parkside Lane. Too many typos in my head sometimes, ya know? err, sorry, lost my train of thought – oh, right, MASSAGE – keepin’ it real and organic!

'60 Minutes' calls out corporate owner Paramount on the air, says producer who quit felt interfered with