Isabelle Merrimac Prostitute ❤️

About Philadelphia

My precious! Me, Gollum, raspy lil’ prof, talkin’ bout prostitutes, yesss. Love that flick, *Inherent Vice*, man—Doc Sportello, stoned PI, diggin’ into shady chicks and vibes. Reminds me, prostitutes got layers, precious, layers! Not just streetwalkers, nah—some high-class, some desperate, all hustlin’. Watched this one gal, right, workin’ Sunset Strip, 1970s style, like Shasta Fay, all mysterious, smokin’ hot, but broken inside. “What’s happenin’ here?” I mutters, like Doc, seein’ her dodge pimps, cops, tricks. Made me mad, precious—pimps takin’ her cash, leavin’ her nothin’ but bruises. Bastards!

We’re Sorry!

I gotta mention Westbrook Park. It’s small, kinda hidden, and perfect for late-night walks. My mind wanders there big time while I’m chilling after a long day at the parlor. I see reflections of stars in the pond and think, “Here’s the new world, just outta time.” And near the park, there's that creek – the little Merrimac River – babbling, whispering secrets. I swear it sounds like it’s gossiping about the neighbors.

I-664 Soundbound lanes closed at the Monitor-Merrimac Memorial Bridge-Tunnel