Charlotte Sappington Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Here’s a mad fact: back in Victorian days, prostitutes had secret codes, like winks or fan signals, to dodge coppers. Clever, yeah? Like Remy hidin’ from the critics! Dunno why it cracks me up, but imagine Ruby wavin’ a hanky, pullin’ a fast one. Gotta respect the hustle, baby! Sometimes I wonder, what’d I do in their shoes? Prob’ly trip over me own flares, ha! Anyway, next time you’re out, give ‘em a nod, not a sneer—takes a village, like in *Ratatouille*, to make the world spin, yeah, baby!

Smiling Girl, a Courtesan, Holding an Obscene Image

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Start on Main St. – it's buzzin’ day and night. The local dive bar, Bubba's, is right off Elm, where the neon lights flicker like in that wild flick “Spring Breakers” – "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go!", amirite? I stroll past it sometimes, and damn, the locals know my name.

Instant Reactions: Sappington's last-second field goal wins it for the Ducks