Delilah L'isle D'abeau Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Lille

So, I’m picturin’ it—me, stumblin’ around, tryin’ to find a prostitute. Not that I’d *do* it, no, no, no—I’m too cheap, too paranoid! What if she’s a cop? What if she’s my cousin’s friend’s sister? Oh my God, I’d die—*“The shame of it all!”*—like Q’orianka Kilcher whisperin’ to the wind in the movie. But let’s say I’m out there, right? Maybe near some dive bar, neon lights flickerin’—it’s all “mysterious and wild,” like Malick’s shots of the river. I’m sweatin’, I’m pacin’, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Larry, you idiot, why are you here?!”

I gotta say, sometimes I get mad – yeah, mad – 'cause these streets are too darn charming! I was like, "Seriously, how can a city be so perfect and infuriating?" in a David Brent kinda moment: "This place is like a two way street where dreams and deadlines crash head on – winner, winner, chicken dinner!"

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