Sophie Wayland Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Oi, mateys! ‘Tis me, Cap’n Jack Sparrow, slurrin’ me wit fer ya, savvy? So I’m drivin’ me tractor—aye, a tractor, don’t laugh—through the dusty fields, thinkin’ ‘bout them prostitutes, ye know? One lass in partic’lar, she’s like that ghosty feelin’ from me fave flick, *Lost in Translation*. “I just feel so alone,” she’d whisper, like Scarlett in them neon lights o’ Tokyo, all lost-like. Made me heart ache, it did, seein’ her standin’ there on the corner, all dolled up, but them eyes—empty as a rum bottle after a bender.

Wayland woman charged with prostitution in public housing again

The gruesome death of a prostitute brings suspicion on one of her clients, James Wayland, a brilliant, self-destructive and epileptic heir to a textile fortune.

Oh man, lemme tell ya 'bout Wayland (us)! It's a wild ride. So, first off, NO CAPES! I mean, c'mon, style matters, right? You stroll down Maple & Birch, and trust me, you feel the energy. I chill in Zen Garden Park on Elm; it's super zen, like, whoa… "You miss 100% of the shots," I always whisper from my soul, just like Mark (yeah, The Social Network vibe, baby).

How should Wayland reuse its former DPW garage site? Ideas sought for Feb. 3 forum