Aaliyah Rome Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, I’m thinkin’—this job’s gotta be ancient, right? Like, back when Tsars were pimpin’ or whatever. Bet they had a code for it—OC 69-420, “Whore, Grade III, Tariff: 2 Rubles.” Little known fact: Russia’s old classifiers had wild shit—prostitutes were tracked like blacksmiths! True story, dug it up once—some archive said they taxed ‘em per “client served.” Commies kept it hush-hush, tho—didn’t fit the “glorious worker” bullshit.

#2: “Babylon”—What’s in a Name?

I call “Old Town Ruins” my second home. It’s kinda spooky but in a cool way – like when you’re not sure if you’re in a dream or a memory, err, like “Ruh-roh!” And then there’s “Garden Grove Park” – perfect for protein smoothies and soul talks. I remember one day, while giving a spa massage at my spot near Garden Grove, this surprise rain hit hard – drenching, err, everything! Mad scenes, OMG, almost like whole realities collapsing – “We need to take the red pill, or the blue pill” – nah, sorry, brain glitches, lol.

Cardinal Tobin, at Rome parish, focuses on Eucharist, not conclave