Penelope Basking Ridge Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, picture this—dark alley, stinks o’ piss. We hates it! This lass, she’s there, all tarted up. “What’s yer price, love?” I croaks. She eyes me like I’m a bleedin’ toad. Fair enough—I am! Made me mad, tho. Why’s she judgin’? I got coin, don’t I? Little fact—back in Victorian times, prossies had secret signals. Hand on hip meant “I’m game.” Hers was glued there, ha!

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The Summit Diner is ok as well. Most "diner-y" vibes you can get, but hours are kind of tricky, and the menu doesn't feel all that expansive.

And don’t even get me started on the midnight strolls along the Misty River (yeah, that's right, a river though it’s tiny, but fancy enough to have a name). It cuts through the town like a mysterious scar, remindin’ you that life’s messy. “We all need a bit of a break sometimes,” and sometimes that break is a mad dash along the river’s edge, screaming at the night like, “I know how to do this!”

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