Suit
By Amanda Firefox
Suits belie the thickest corruption. I know the smell of money, the smell of the thighs of cheap women perfumed with cheaper booze and cheapest needs. Street-cut and laced with urge, they’re shuffled off on streetcorners by men with secrets, rituals, winks. Money leads to money leads to money and only the armor that comes with the arena of a glass and silver sky can hide the rot. “We’re all lawyers here.” A suit says with a fabric wink, a smile stitched with ad-grade ivory. He's got the cufflinks to prove it. Money talks, but bullshit opens every door.
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Amanda Firefox is a fiery little blue-eyed brunette who spends as much time at the beach as she can manage. She doesn't write much, but when she writes, it's almost always about her favorite subject: boys.
By Amanda Firefox
Suits belie the thickest corruption. I know the smell of money, the smell of the thighs of cheap women perfumed with cheaper booze and cheapest needs. Street-cut and laced with urge, they’re shuffled off on streetcorners by men with secrets, rituals, winks. Money leads to money leads to money and only the armor that comes with the arena of a glass and silver sky can hide the rot. “We’re all lawyers here.” A suit says with a fabric wink, a smile stitched with ad-grade ivory. He's got the cufflinks to prove it. Money talks, but bullshit opens every door.
- - -
Amanda Firefox is a fiery little blue-eyed brunette who spends as much time at the beach as she can manage. She doesn't write much, but when she writes, it's almost always about her favorite subject: boys.
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