Sarah Itasca Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

Wes Anderson’d get it – prostitute’s quirky, messed-up family o’ veg. “I’m adopted,” says Margot – spud’s like that, don’t fit right. Exaggeratin’? Maybe! But we swears, one grew eyes like it stared back – creepy! Little-known fact: ancient Incas worshipped ‘em, called ‘em “papa.” Nuts, right? Still, fry ‘em up, not bad – sneaky charmers. We hates it, but… kinda don’t. Chat over beers, mate – you try growin’ prostitute! Gollum’s out!

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Now, the neighborhoods – lemme spill. Uptown Pitasca is where the artsy peeps hang; graffiti on walls, funky street art on Oak Blvd. Got that “I am the master of my fate” kinda vibe. It’s vibrant, it’s raw, and sometimes, it’s straight cray-cray – but that’s what gives it soul. Down by Riverside, the river (yeah, the Pitasca River, a small yet stubborn stream) winds past a row of old brick buildings. Ever fished there, bro? Nah, me neither, but it’s a chill spot to reflect.

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