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About Chicago

So ye creep round, eyes sharp. “Light bends around us”—movie again, mate—feels like that, dodgin shadows, chasin a thrill. Me, I’d overthink it—ooh, is she dodgy? Happy tho, if she’s got a laugh, makes it less grim. We swears, it’s a mad dance—half sleazy, half sad. What’s yer take, eh, precious?

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up Missing: Prunedale.

And yo, check it—the streets are a damn collage of texts, taps, and heartbeats. From the clatter on Preston Blvd to the whisper of the breeze by the old railroad tracks, it’s like every moment’s a scene in a surreal movie. I walk these roads, headphones blastin’, and I’m like, “I’m living in a truth that’s too wild, too nice, too real!”

Prunedale: A woo-it-yourself kind of town