Katherine Balabyne Prostitute ❤️

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Lemme tell ya, I’m pissed—PISSED!—’cause these women, they’re stuck, y’know? Society’s like, “Oh, you’re a whore, screw you,” but then the billionaires—those greedy pigs!—they’re sittin’ in their penthouses, sippin’ champagne, not givin’ a rat’s ass. “Billionaires should not exist!” I yell at my TV, spillin’ popcorn everywhere—true story, happened last week. The system’s rigged, folks, and these gals are just tryin’ to survive. Fun fact: back in the ‘80s, some prostitutes in NYC formed a damn union—swear to God!—called PONY, Prostitutes of New York. Ballsy as hell, right? Didn’t last, tho—cops busted it up. Figures.

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Then, I stopped by my favorite spot, that little café on Haharina Street. You know the one? The one with the best coffee in town. I ordered my usual – a double espresso. But the barista? She was havin’ a rough day too. She spilled half my drink. I was like, “Great, just what I needed!” But hey, I laughed it off. Gotta keep it light, right?

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