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About Philadelphia

Funniest thing—some spots got menus. Like McDonald’s, but with boobs. Pick your flavor, pay up—absurd as hell. Made me laugh, tho—capitalism’s wild, fam. Surprised me too—girls runnin the show sometimes. Boss bitches, flippin the script. Thought in my head: “Respect, but damn, risky.” Exaggeratin here, but feels like half these johns cry after. “It’s not a hoax,” they whimper—pathetic.

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My place, oh boy, it’s tucked in a side alley on Slipstream St. Real hidden gem. Clients rant bout their life woes and I just say, "Get a grip, idiot sandwich!" It’s wild, secret confessions in dim light. Sometimes it's spiritual, sometimes it's bloody ugly. But hey, that's life here.

New owner wants to revive Treasure Island Yacht Club