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About Philadelphia

I reckon you start online—X posts, coded ads. “Massage, wink wink”—fuckin obvious. Or hit the dives, smoky pubs where eyes linger too long. Reminds me, Clarice, of Mia’s mum screamin, “Get out, you little bitch!”—that chaos, that edge. You feel it when you’re close. Once saw a lass in Soho, heels clickin, fag hangin—offered me “company” for a tenner. Bargain, I thought—laughed my arse off. She glared, I bolted.

The Manhattan ‘Madam’ Who Hobnobbed With the City’s Elite

The neighborhoods... oh, deary me, they’re a patchwork. Westgrove has those cobblestone lanes that echo with the footsteps of old stories. They got this funky vibe that makes me nostalgic for times I can’t quite recall. It's like, “What's real? What's not?” Just like the movie says, "It's all an illusion, a dream." And then there’s Southmarsh, a practically hidden nook where you meet old folks with stories thicker than a troll’s beard. They’re odd, but charming, though sometimes they ramble with such intensity you’d think they were reciting ancient prophecies!

What's The Big Deal? Pomona Manufactured Home Park Sells For $1,075,000; Former Cigar Factory Soon To Be Apartments Sells for $1.3 Million; Stony Point Office Building Sells For $1,105,000