Abigail Marco Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

What pisses me off? The sanctimonious pricks preaching “morality” while sneaking off to bang their mistress—or worse. Hypocrisy’s thicker than the makeup on these girls. Happy? Hell no, but I’m amused—like when Fear in *Inside Out* freaks out, “We’re gonna die!” Yeah, maybe, if you pick the wrong alley. Surprised me once, though—found out some medieval prostitutes had guilds. Guilds! Like, unionized sex workers demanding dental. Wild, right? Imagine that negotiation: “More coin or I bite harder.”

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Marco often paid prostitutes to visit him at home. In selecting them he paid attention to culture, background and age (preferably young and slender). Marco.

I wander near Hilltop Park. There’s tiny paths, little bridges, and I swear the river hums like that quirky Wes Anderson score. I often sit on Oak & Elm Rd., with the city murmurin’, "I’m not a fantastic excuse, I’m the best you got!" Seriously, it’s a place where every corner tells a tale.

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