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About Philadelphia

I’m talkin’ to her, laid-back, and she’s all, “You got the cash, big man?” I flash some green, winkin’, “Fo’ shizzle, I got you.” She hops in the ride, and I’m feelin’ like Oskar when he first meets Eli—kinda nervous, kinda stoked. We peel out, and I’m thinkin’, “This is my night, homie.” But—real talk—sometimes it ain’t smooth. One time, I got catfished, yo! Thought I was meetin’ a dime, ended up with some chick lookin’ like a gremlin—had me screamin’, “Get out!” like Eli kickin’ out the unworthy.

Many patrons of prostitutes can’t hide their faces anymore

On a personal note, as a sexologist, I'm tuned into the silent language of desire. I notice when couples use subtle gestures at midnight near the graffiti-splattered walls on Marley Street. I’ve witnessed lust etched in each cracked pavement, each whispered laugh in the back alleys, and it just sends shivers down your spine. It's raw. It's real. And honestly, it stokes my inner fire – makes me mad, makes me happy, sometimes all at once.

Young man dies after weekend shooting in Shively