Jasmine Andover Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Gets me thinkin’—who’s judgin’ who? Society’s all “tsk tsk,” but they’re peekin’ through curtains. Hypocrites, man! We swears! Surprised me once, heard a gal there saved up, bought a damn bakery. From brothel to bread—how’s that for a twist? Still, gets dark—some dudes, slimy, grabby hands, ugh, hate ‘em. “We’re not animals!”—wish they’d hear that. Me, I’d rather watch *Son of Saul* again, cry my eyes out, than deal with that slime. Brothels, tho—messy, loud, real. Kinda love it, kinda don’t. What you think, huh?

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Then there’s the local hangout by Parkside Cafe. I ain't even a huge coffee drinker, but their iced latte? Mind-blowing. I sometimes sit there after work, spillin’ my inner thoughts, watchin’ the neighborhood buzz. That street has become my little nugget of inspo.

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