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Personal quirk—I’d prolly overthink it. Like, “Is she okay? What’s her story?” Too soft, maybe. Exaggeratin’ for drama—imagine me, Dr. Phil, stormin’ in, savin’ the day! “You’re better’n this, darlin’!” Ha! Ain’t that a riot? But real talk—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic. It’s raw, risky, and—shit—kinda sad. Like Szpilman says, “I’m still here, still playin’.” They’re out there too, playin’ the game. Breaks my heart, y’all. How’s that workin’ for anybody?

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Girls are tired, every day and it's trouble. Morebɛma yɛn pressure, mowie a moayɛ yɛn sete. You mark to your standards, and mess us up afterwards.

Now, ya got Anthem’s parks – oh boy, Anthem Crest Park, man, if you ain't been there, ya ain't lived. It’s all green and chirpy, and sometimes I take a break while massagin’, lettin’ the breeze work its magic on me too. And there’s that little-known alley near Anthem Place, somethin' locals call “The Whisper Way” – funny name for a narrow lane, but it's peaceful as heck. Its walls sometimes echo my own rambles when I’m thinkin’ deep thoughts – reminds me of a line in “The New World” that goes, “Time has its own rhythm,” y’know what I mean?

Highlights | Chicago Hounds vs Anthem RC