Zoey Waipi'o Acres Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Yeah, baby! So, dig this—whore’s a trip, right? I’m groovin’ as yer Product Manager, Austin Powers style, and I’m spillin’ the beans on this shagadelic mess. Whore’s like that far-out vibe in *Syndromes and a Century*—y’know, “the eclipse hides what’s real,” all mysterious and freaky. Makes me wanna shag and cry at once! I mean, whores been around forever, yeah? Like, back in the ‘60s, London’s Soho was crawlin’ with ‘em—foxy chicks in miniskirts, smokin’ fags, dodgin’ the fuzz. Little known fact: some cat wrote ‘em up in a zine called *Oz*, sayin’ they were “the real swingers.” Far out, huh?

Streets here are a mess of twists. Try Lani Lane, man. It’s a small, crooked road. Smelly yet lovable. Near my spot, ya got Moonstone Market. It’s a shady little bazaar, filled with odd trinkets and grumpy vibes. Oi, stupid, fat hobbit! I mean, they sell some ancient crap there.

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