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About Philadelphia

But it pisses me off, precious! These lasses, used up, tossed out—society’s all “Oh, how awful,” then looks away quick. Hypocrites, we hates ‘em! Last week, saw this gal outside me shop, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag, eyes dead as a drowned rat. Broke me shriveled heart, it did. Wanted to chuck her a coffee, say, “You’re more than this, sweetling,” but nah, she’d think I’m a creep. “What is it? What’s it for?”—like that line from the movie, ya know? No one asks what they’re really chasin’.

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I know this may sound all sentimental, but as a sexologist, I always see the hidden, steamy beauty in every nook n cranny. Now, lemme talk about that rad little park—Briarwood Park, y’know? It's a lil’ secret gem! Folks here stroll, laugh, even flirt beneath the towering oaks. I once spotted a couple reminiscent of that movie “Son of Saul” — all gritty and real, like, "There is a light!" in the darkness, ya feel me? I got chills, baby!

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