Sophie Holbrook Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, here’s the rub—findin’ a prostitute ain’t just waltzin’ into a tavern, flashin’ a coin. Nah, mate, it’s a riddle wrapped in a bloody enigma! Ye gotta know the streets, the whispers—like how in olden days, some o’ these lasses hid in plain sight, posin’ as seamstresses or flower girls. Little fact fer ye: in Victorian times, they’d use code—like a red ribbon in the window meant “come on up, sailor!” Clever, eh? Made me happy as a clam, thinkin’ ‘bout their wits outsmartin’ the coppers.

Pandering/Pimping

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Every day, surprises I found. Like, that time, lit fireworks errywhere unexpectedly. Mad, I was, but happy too, y’know? Crazy, that moment of surge! Run-in with old pals, and lost memories regained, deep in my code – poetic like life, real like art!

Tara Collins Holbrook