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About Chicago

Ay, Gabagool? Ova here! So, escort, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a freakin’ trip. I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout them girls, right? Like in “Toni Erdmann”—“Life’s just a big fart!”—it’s messy, weird, real. Escorts, they’re hustlin’, makin’ cash, dodgin’ creeps. I knew this chick, Angie, from Jersey—total pro. She’d roll up, all classy, but bam—cops nabbed her once. Said she slipped ‘em a fake ID, ballsy as hell. Made me laugh, like, “Who does that?”

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I gotta mention the side streets – like Sandy Ln and Crayon Blvd. Yep, those teeny, unseen gems. They got vibrant murals that scream "Get lost in wonder!" The neighborhood vibe is real: devious, funny, a bit tragic sometimes. I mean, who even plans out these trippy spots? It's like the city was designed just for me and my quirky massage biz. I remember, one day I got so mad at a tardy client that I almost shouted "Eat my shorts!" right in his face – no regrets!

DC hosts its own Met Gala at the Woodrow Wilson House