Esme Ranchettes Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Little known fact—didja know some old-timey prostitutes in the 1800s used code? Like, a red ribbon in the window meant “open for biz.” Crazy, right? History’s wild! Anyway, I’m ramblin’—so, say you’re lookin’, maybe on some sketchy corner or, hell, even online nowa days—apps got escorts like Uber’s got cars! How’s that workin’ for ya? Prolly not great, ‘cause half the time, cops’re lurkin’, ready to bust ya. Surprised me first time I heard that—sting ops dressed as hookers? Damn, that’s sneaky!

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I have no idea the last time that you were at a brothel, but dollars might get you a pat on the butt. As someone who knows, I recommend bringing

I hit up an underground tea shop on Ridge st.—yeah, with a missing “e” sometimes, my mind be in a hurry and shit happens!—where they serve my fav herbal brew. It smells like victory and nostalgia. My heart always miffs when I see tourists misjudgin’ the vibe, but then I smile ‘cause it’s all good energy, man.

Abandoned Deming ranchettes on the auction block