Olivia Summerfield Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

D’oh! Alright, pal, lemme tell ya bout whores—man, what a wild ride! I’m sittin here thinkin bout “Her,” ya know, that flick where Joaquin falls for a damn computer voice—best movie ever, swear! “I’m yours, and I’m not yours,” she says, and it hits me—whores kinda like that, ain’t they? There, but not really *there*, ya dig? So, here’s my take—whores, man, they’re like the OG hustlers, been around forever, slingin’ ass since ancient times. Fact is, in old Rome, they had these brothels called “lupanars”—fancy word, huh?—and the gals painted dirty pics on walls to advertise. Ain’t that nuts? Like, “Hey, check my Yelp review in graffiti!”

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Stroll down Hawthorn Ave. – damn, it's a soul-stirrin' spot. I mean, walkin' those cracked sidewalks, you feel every bitchin’ memory. That street shows grit, life's scars, and pure beauty. It’s like I always say – "You’re the one who makes that life worth livin’!" (Yeah, a twist on Let the Right One In, motherf***er!)

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