Ellie Stallings Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

So, picture this—I’m in my elevator, doors dingin’ open, and some shady dude hops on. Smells like cheap cologne and regret. I’m like, “Anyone can cook, but can ya find a decent hooker?” Straight outta *Ratatouille*, baby. He gives me this look, probs thinks I’m nuts. But I’m wonderin’—is there an app for that now? Like Uber, but with fishnets? I bet there is. Prolly called “Hoober” or some crap. Made me laugh, thinkin’ bout it—technology’s wild, man.

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Website wants people to rate sex services. A brothel is looking for men and women to check for things like cleanliness and safe sex practice.

I remember one epic night on a breezy Wednesday, wandering Beacon St. (so, damn, it’s lit) and thinking, “Who are we? And what's our excuse for being here?” Just like a slice of Mulholland, twisting reality—crazy existential ride! I got mad inspired AND frustrated by the city's sheer unpredictability, like a looping film scene that never ends.

Jacob Stallings' three-run homer