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Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ like thunder, sittin’ you down to talk about a *whore*. Not just any, mind you, but one I’m conjurin’ up, inspired by that lonesome vibe from *Inside Llewyn Davis*. Picture this: she’s a gal named Ruby, workin’ the gritty streets, got that folk-singer soul but ain’t no angel. “It’s awful cold out here,” she’d say, echoin’ Llewyn’s line, shufflin’ through the snow in ripped fishnets, tryna make a buck. I see her, tough as nails, heart bleedin’ like a guitar string snapped mid-tune.

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Neighborhoods? Yo, there's Northside where cozy vibes dwell. There's a ghetto but love it, ya get me? Old murals and whispering winds, man. Near West End, quaint joint called “Zen Den” is—um—my fav place to unload a bad day. It’s pure bliss, kinda like that raw hunger in Requiem for a Dream, intense, right?

Fort Meade made history by appointing its first female Garrison Commander | 7Salutes