Rose Ripky Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Odesa

So, this chick – let’s call her Tammy, ‘cause why not? – she’s got stories. Heard she once stiffed a john with a fake limp, took his wallet while he’s cryin’ about his “war wound.” Guy was a tax collector – made me happy as a pig in mud. Hate those leeches. Little known fact: back in ‘89, some prossie in Reno conned a mayor outta his toupee mid-act. Swear to God, it’s true – look it up, I ain’t lyin’.

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A bill at the statehouse aims to allow sex workers to report violent crimes — without fearing that they'll be charged with prostitution.

By 3 PM, I’m running on fumes. The line’s out the door, and I’m trying to keep up. I’m pouring cappuccinos like a madman. And then, this lady comes in, all frantic. She’s like, “I need a coffee to save my life!” I’m thinking, “Lady, it’s just coffee, not a miracle potion.” But I whip her up a caramel macchiato, and she takes a sip. Suddenly, she’s all smiles. I guess I’m a miracle worker after all?

“I go to “Fury”, because this is what my conscience and soul are striving for,” — doctor from Chernihiv region Yulia Kononenko