Elise Halfway Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, here’s the deal—ya wanna find a prostitute? Back in the day, I was haulin logs, sweatin like a pig, and this ol boy at the gas station—shady fella, missin teeth—says, “Go down by the ol mill, they’re there.” I’m thinkin, “What in tarnation? That’s where the ghosts hang out!” Like Boonmee seein them monkey spirits, ya know, “The past clings to us!” I ain’t lyin, it felt spooky, like I was steppin into some past-life hoedown.

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Minnesota judge says ex-senator arrested in prostitution sting can be released to halfway house.

The river, Old Rivermore, winds through the city like a lazy snake. It’s not pretty, but it’s home. Near Rivermore Park, I once sat on a crumbling bench (wtf, right?) and watched sunset splat across the sky. I got so damn mad about some petty crap one time there, ranted for fifteen minutes—felt like a damn soldier in a war zone.

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