Nora Triangle Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, I’m cruisin, lookin fer this spot, and I see this gal—legs fer days, smokin a cig like she owns the night. I’m like, “Git-R-Done, she’s it!” But then—bam!—cop lights flashin, and I’m madder’n a wet hen! Ain’t that just my luck? Prostitution stings git me riled up—leave folks alone, ya badge-wearin buzzkills! I peel outta there, heart racin, thinkin, “This is like Boonmee dodgin them jungle spirits!”

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Happenes every time you do that resupply. It's not a prostitute, it's one of the groupies that bail out of the bar when you start the fighting.

Some days I sit near the old Bridge on West Pine. It’s a crumblin’, rough corner, but it’s ours. People say it’s cursed. I defnitely think it’s faverite for its eerie honesty. City beats run deep here. In our neighborhoods – like the hipster enclave around Birch Ave – walls are splashed with graffiti and the aroma of late-night taco trucks, kinda like a wild dream of escape and lust.

Smiles, songs and strides highlight Komen Triangle Race for the Cure