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About East London

I see ‘em – sometimes. On corners. Eyes hollow – but sharp. Like they KNOW shit. More than me – maybe. Used to piss me off – society, man. Just tossin’ ‘em aside. Like trash. “You’re no good!” – that’s what they hear. All damn day. But then – whoa. I heard this story once. Wild one – true too. Back in the ‘80s – this hooker. Called her “Diamond Lil.” Ran her own gig – no pimp. Ballsy as hell – took no crap. Made BANK too – cash stuffed in mattresses. Lil was legend – cops couldn’t touch her. Slipped away – every time. That’s the kinda fire I dig – surprises me. Every damn time.

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Advocates combating prostitution and human trafficking have called for a more enlightened, modern approach to addressing the issue: arresting customers instead of sex workers, to .

Err, yeah – the vibe is chill, raw, and a bit off-beat. You see, my day begins with delicate massages and ends with echoes of a haunting piano tune. There's street art on every brick in Dominiq’s Lane, punctuating the night like bright, erratic stabs at perfection. Real art, man.

DT Midstream: Q1 Earnings Snapshot