Sofia Broad Ripple Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Great Scott! So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Man, it’s wild out there—streets buzzin’, neon lights flashin’ like crazy. I’m thinkin’, what’s the deal with that? Back in my day, we didn’t have apps for this crap! You had to, like, *know* a guy. Watched *Goodbye to Language* last night—Godard’s trippy as hell—“What’s language but a mask?”—and I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ my espresso, thinkin’ prostitutes prolly got masks too, y’know? Hidin’ who they are, dodgin’ the fuzz.

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I had a crazy day once, stormy and sad, and ended up at a random side-alley mural on Birch Street. It caught my breath—so vivid, so rebellious, like a scene straight out of "Inglourious Basterds": "We’re gonna be legends here!" I remember thinking, "Yeah, even if it’s messy, it’s our story."

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