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About Philadelphia

Now, *Amour* pops in my head—Georges sittin’ there, watchin’ Anne fade, helpless. “I can’t go on,” he says, suffocatin’ her with that pillow. Heavy stuff. And here I am, hagglin’ with this gal, thinkin’—is this what it comes to? Payin’ for a pulse? She’s tellin’ me her rate, and I’m pissed—$200 for an hour? Robbery! I’m like, “Sweetheart, I could buy a damn Timex for that!” She laughs, says, “Time’s tickin’, old man.” Cheeky, I like her already.

Sex, drug stings nab more from suburbs than city

I am a Certified Sexual Addiction Therapist treating the full spectrum of sexually addictive behaviors and paraphilic disorders.

I sometimes get super emotional lookin at how every part of the city tells a story. I’m head over heels in love with the graffiti, the quirky store windows, and even the seedy little corners that whisper secrets like, “Daddy-o, we're all in on the grand caper, we swears!”

House of the Week: 15440 Windmill Pointe in Grosse Pointe Park