Sofia Midvale Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Pisses me off, tho, how it’s all hush-hush. Cargo’s tracked, tagged, but whore? Off the grid, baby! Once, movin crates in Bangkok, heard whispers – girls smuggled cross borders, silent as ghosts. Got me thinkin, who’s the real villain? Me, shiftin TVs, or the system screwin em? Dr. Evil vibe kicks in – pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” I’d burn it all down for kicks. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but fuck it, feels true!

403 - Permission Denied

A couple of weeks ago, two year old Midvale townies snuck into The Flames of Hell, just to see if the rumors were true about what went on there. Dressed in.

And gurl, the vibe in Midvale is, like, totally infectious. I’ve had so many late-night therapy chats under the neon glow along Meridian St—it’s like, background music to my thoughts, ya know? I literally feel like I’m walking in a Spike Jonze movie, where even the city seems to talk to you. "I think therefore I am" vibes, so cheesy but, like, so deep.

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