Emma Limerick Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” We’re hagglin now—40 bucks, final offer. She rolls her eyes, “Fine, you cheap bastard.” Love that fire! Reminds me of Tony in *Brooklyn*, fightin for his girl. I’m no Tony, tho—more like a shadow, slippin thru cracks. She grabs my hand, leads me to this alley. Smells like wet trash, but I’m buzzin. “This is home,” she says, sarcastic as hell. Home! Cracked me up.

1 year on, Irish state and Gardaí don’t care about the murder of a sex worker

15 women 'selling sex' in Limerick city building. www.facebook.com

Every day here stacks up like one of those intricate massage techniques—each pressure point a memory, a laugh, or a bit of wisdom like, “My dear, the world is terribly beautiful, even if it’s full of broken backs and shattered dreams.” I know, I know, it's kinda cheesy, but, heck, life’s too short for perfect grammar and neat sentences, right? Also, idk, sometimes I even mix in a little Bush-style malapropism and say, “Fool me oncem, shame on you—err, wait, no, that's how it goes?”

PICTURES: Out and about at the David Gray gig in Limerick