Vanessa Congers Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

I knew this gal once—Candy, swear to god—worked downtown, tough as nails! She’d tell ya stories bout dodgin’ cops, laughin’ at johns who cried after. Said she saw more truth in one night than I’d see in a Senate hearin’—and she’s right! Whores see the world raw, no filter, no billionaires’ lies! Made me happy, hearin’ her sass, like, “Bernie, these suits ain’t shit!” Surprised me too—didja know whores in medieval times paid taxes? Fuckin’ taxed for screwin’ while kings built castles! Insane!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

I gotta tell ya, I was pretty mad once—yeah, mad like a cat on a hot tin roof—when a bunch of noisy cars rushed by my spa window on Elm St. on a rainy day. It was like, "Silence, please!" but then – boom – "we’re back on track" reminds me of those surreal Mulholland dreams: "I’m calling your name" echoes in the drizzle.

The Congers Crash Fifty Years Later