Ada Carver Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

I’d be strollin’ downtown, mutterin’, “Hmm… where’s the action?” Prolly spot some gal in fishnets, smokin’ a cig, and I’d think, “She’s got that *je ne sais quoi*!” Like in the movie, when Adèle says, “I miss you, it hurts.” That’s me, missin’ somethin’ wild, but I ain’t even started yet! I’d be nervous, tho—heart poundin’, palms sweaty. “Marge, chill,” I’d tell myself, but nah, I’m a mess.

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Upon arrival, you will see some peasants and a prostitute called Whistling Wendy who walks away from you if approached. Find the dwarven woodcarver's body.

Down by the Carver River, near Blue Park—hey, Blue Park ain't rare, but it's my sanctuary. I plod around there, thinking 'bout brainy stuff and dating app code bugs. Yeah, our app is dank sometimes, but this city shapes it. The river? Sparklin’ water running fast. It never stops, unlike my coffee orders. LOL!

Five things to watch for in the Indiana Fever’s exhibition contest at Carver-Hawkeye Arena