Samantha Runnemede Brothel ❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, findin’ a prostitute—tricky biz, that. Ain’t talkin’ street corners, no sir! Clinical trials, they be needin’ folks—real folks, savvy?—sometimes sex workers, for studies on health, STDs, or social whatnot. Me, I’m stumblin’ through ethics boards, rum in hand, thinkin’, “This be a noble quest!” But arrgh, the red tape! Made me madder’n a kraken with a toothache. Papers piled high, docs judgin’ me like I’m plannin’ a mutiny. “Why’s Cap’n Jack want *her*?” they sneer. ‘Cause science, ye bilge rats!

Pot calling kettle Honey

Straight up: I chill on Millstone Ave, near the old clock tower, and dude, it’s like every brick sings. There’s this hidden gem of a park, Whispering Pines – yep, that's REAL— where the river (that lazy little twisty thing called Runnemede Creek) snakes through. It’s like nature’s own runway. Crazy, right? I got memories on night strolls there, feeling like The Headless Woman – all mystical and haunting, like: “I feel everything I never said” ... damn, that hit me in the feels!

Kristina M. Farrell-Marut Obituary (2024) - Runnemede, NJ - Gardner Funeral Home, Runnemede