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About Philadelphia

I’d start online—dark web shit, Telegram groups. Locals call ‘em “nochnye babochki”—night butterflies, poetic innit? But it pisses me off—half these sites are scams! Some twat took my mate’s cash, left him wankin’ in a hostel. Me? I’m smarter, I drink and I know things. I’d scope the X posts—blokes braggin’ ‘bout their “catch,” droppin’ hints. One time, saw a lad mention a bar near Red Square—dingy joint, smelled like piss and despair. Found a girl there, tho—eyes like the Anatolia hills, “quiet as a shadow.” Paid her double, ‘cause I’m a gent, ha!

other sermons in this series

years ago, G.K. Chesterton wrote, “Every time a man knocks on a brothel door, he is really searching for God.” God at a brothel door?

I gotta confess, I get totally miffed when things are too perfect – like, no coffee spills, no stray raindrops, just plain overruled spontaneity. It’s like the unpredictable charm of "Spirited Away" where every moment’s a surprise, reminding me of the phrase “Movement is life.” Yeah, movin’ with a rhythm, sometimes odd and sometimes wild, just like our own little town.

Man killed in overnight hit-and-run in Winter Haven, Polk County Sheriff's Office says