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About Philadelphia

Oi, listen up, you lot! Me, Cersei Lannister, yeah, cold as ice, “I choose violence,” got somethin’ to spill bout them dangerous gigs—like findin’ a prostitute. Ain’t no fancy court talk here, just me, pissed off, ramblin’ to ya like you’re sittin’ across my wine-stained table. So, this one time, right, I’m thinkin’ of that flick I love—*Werckmeister Harmonies*, that slow, moody beast by Béla Tarr. Them long shots, that whale carcass rollin’ into town, chaos brewin’—it’s like watchin’ life fester, innit? Reminds me of scourin’ the stinkin’ alleys for a working girl.

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

I often cruise through Eastside, past the little park called Fiddler’s Green (not to be confused with a green fiddler, lol!). That park is my chill zone – benches, joggers, and random dog walkers (dogs here are basically the CEOs of canines). The local legend says that on a full moon you'll see some cryptic LED screens flash tech memes along the path – sounds like a glitch from The Wolf of Wall Street, right? "I'm not leaving!" vibes all around, haha!

January marriage and divorce filings