Claire Swarthmore Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Hmm… Oh Marge here, nasal as ever! So, prostitute, huh? I’m thinkin’ bout them gals walkin’ the streets, heels clickin’ like a clock tickin’ down their dignity. Watched “Carol” again last night—oh, that movie gets me! Therese, so soft, so lost, kinda reminds me of a prossie I knew once. Name was Ruby, swear she had eyes like Cate Blanchett, all deep and sad. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting,” Carol says—Ruby wanted out, y’know? But life ain’t no film script.

Having sex at Swarthmore: The myth of hookup culture, deconstructed

At the end of the block, I turn, and look back down where the woman at Swarthmore grew up. That's where the prostitutes hang out. I ask.

Now, listen, I got some personal quirks too. I sometimes get mad when I see families ignoring open dialogue—like, c’mon, communicate! But every now and then, I see parents and kids laughing aloud, sharing secrets in those park benches. That’s some real-life magic, my friend.

By the Book: James Lewis, '27 :: Libraries