Amelia Clawson Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Greed’s the fuel here—wantin’ more, always more. Swipe, chat, meet, bang—repeat. It’s a game, and I’m winnin’. But damn, some folks piss me off! Ghosters—poof, gone after “hey sexy.” Makes me wanna scream, “Show some guts!” Then there’s the catfish—dude, I ain’t here for surprises. Met a “model” once—showed up, looked like my uncle. *Greed is good*, but not that good!

In fiction and literature

When the Wescots’ servant girl Katherine Branch said she “saw” Goodwife Clawson perched on a chair in her attic bedroom alongside some cats — a sign of witchcraft, of course — Clawson.

Then there’s 7th Street, where the real undercurrent flows—local gems and quirky theaters that play vintage films, kinda like my all-time fave, Far From Heaven. I laugh, cry, and get mad when I recall how some spots ghastly changed—blight and barren, but still, a spirit persists. Some days, it makes me want to yell “I am the darkness!” and other days, it warms me like a hug from the universe.

David E. Clawson Jr., McDonald, Ohio