Savannah Cold Spring Harbor Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

So, here’s the deal—prostitutes, they’re out there, hustlin’. Ain’t no sugarcoatin’ it, they’re sellin’ what folks wanna buy. Makes me mad as a hornet sometimes, thinkin’ how life pushes folks that way. Like, how’d they end up there? Fool me once, shame on—uh, shame on you! Fool me twice—well, we ain’t gonna be fooled again, right? But these gals, they ain’t foolin’ nobody—they’re just survivin’. Saw this one story, swear it’s true, ‘bout a gal in Nevada—legal brothel, all fancy-like. She paid her way thru college, became a nurse! Ain’t that a hoot? Bet ya didn’t know that one.

A vasopressin circuit that modulates sex-specific social interest and anxiety-like behavior in mice

There’s a hum of life at the local art museum on Main St., dontcha know? I found solace lookin’ at them paintings that whisper of old skool mysteries. Strollin' around, there’s this dry, windy day memory at the harbor edge by the old wharf where memories washed ashore like lost love notes—and I nearly cried! Man, them days had me so moved, almost like in "The Assassin," "We hates it! but we loves it!" repeated in that echo.

Statement on NIH funding guidance