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About Philadelphia

Now, don’t get me wrong, it ain’t all funny. Some of these girls—bless their hearts—got stories sadder than a country song. Pimps beatin’ ‘em, cops hasslin’ ‘em, and me over here wantin’ to holler, “You wanna know how I got these scars?” like the Joker, ‘cept my scars are from fallin’ off a stage in heels, ha! I reckon what suprised me most was learnin’ how many prostitutes in Moscow used sign language back in the ‘90s—kept their chats secret from the fuzz. Ain’t that slicker than a greased pig?

I gotta tell ya, though—some spots make me mad too. Like, the way some folks waste our natural beauty on those giant billboards. I mean, billionaires and their fat profits should not exist! This place is about community, not corporate greed, man. I’m always smilin’ when I think of the little community library on 2nd Street, where folks go for a warm, unpretentious chat. That’s my kind of hub, ya know?

Peterson claims spot on derby leaderboard