Leah Clay Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

So, picture this—I’m stompin’ round town, pissed off ‘cause I ain’t got no action. “I’m not scared of you!” I yell at some shady dude eyeballin’ me. Reminds me of Sam shakin’ his fist at them khaki scouts. Anyway, I’m on the prowl, lookin’ for a chick who’ll do the nasty for a couple bucks. Ain’t no big deal, right? But these streets are confusin’ as hell! I’m ragin’, like, “Where’s my goddamn prostitute at?!” Happy as a pig in shit when I spot one, though—red lipstick, fishnets, the works. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn place. Total badass, like Suzy with her binoculars, scopin’ out her next move.

Interview with Lucretia Clay

May include: A ceramic figurine of a skeleton wearing a green dress with yellow flowers. Rare find.

Now, I’m fixin’ to end this chat with a piece of advice from the movie that’s my jam: “You’re not the one who has to come up with the idea; you’re here to execute it!” And baby, in Clay, every corner’s a new idea, every wrinkle a story, and every person a masterpiece.

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