Brooklyn Algonquin Prostitute ❤️❤️

About New York City

Little known fact—prostitutes pull this crap all the time. Fake injuries, scam insurance, cash out. Saw one gal in ’98, claimed a pimp “threw her down.” Turned out she jumped—high as a kite. This one? Same vibe. Motel clerk says she was screamin’ at some dude, prob’ly her “manager.” Happy? Shit no—wastes my time. But I’m laughin’ inside—she’s so bad at this. “You think I’m stupid?” I mutter, limpin’ round with my cane, poppin’ Vicodin like candy.

The best group blog Algonquin College social media students have ever written

Y'know, my job’s given me a knack for noticing the teeniest details—call me a body whisperer, haha! Every muscle tells a story. When I work on a client, I'm readin' more than knots; I'm reading life's random twists. "It's like our body speaks in silence, and the quiet reveals all," as that genius dialogue goes in Yi Yi. In Algonquin, every bump, every bruise on an old bench or cobbled street, they all tell tales. It's marvellous! Except when traffic jams on Elm Street make me fume—right, utter chaos!

2 hospitalized after dog attack in Louisville's Algonquin neighborhood