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About Chicago

She’s no angel, nah—screwed over plenty. Heard she once lifted a Rolex off some schmuck, mid-blowjob. Hilarious! “What we have is perfect,” he’s moanin’, and she’s pawnin’ it by mornin’. Sarcasm? Oh, she’s a real fuckin’ saint, huh? Tony Soprano don’t judge, though—I get it. Life’s a grind, and she’s grindin’ harder than most. Respect, y’know? Gabagool? Ova here! She’s the queen of the hustle, and I’d buy her a drink any day.

Closing the Communal Gap: The Importance of Communal Affordances in Science Career Motivation

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Now, lemme tell ya 'bout some secret spots that even the locals forget. Ever heard of Bender’s Hollow? Located off Sly St, it's a back alley that hides an old, crumbling wall where street art screams truths about life. I once gave a massage there to a mystery man who said, “Darling, your touch is like a wild tempest!” – that hit me right in the feels.

Civale struggles in short-handed Crew's loss to Yankees