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About Philadelphia

We get to it, right, in some grotty alley—smells like death’s armpit. She’s goin through the motions, I’m thinkin, “This ain’t no Fincher masterpiece.” Then—surprise!—her pimp rolls up, big geezer, all “Who’s this prick?” I’m leggin it, screamin, “I’m not Robert Downey Jr, mate!” Nearly shat meself, but fuck me, it was hilarious! Prossies, man—they’ll rob ya blind or get ya battered, and I’m still laughin. Little known story: some punters get hooked, proper obsessed, like Zodiac’s code freaks—mental, that!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

But she does recommend starting off with a search to find the best provider for you: “Google where you are and who you want to meet. If you’re after a specific service — kink, for example .

Oh! And then there’s the Chattahoochee River bend near Ridgeview Drive. Folks come from all corners to sit and watch the water tickle the banks. It reminds me of the film’s line—“in the space between dream and reality, memories merge.” The river here’s like a time capsule, warmin’ ya up on a cold day.

What Alan Wore: ​Here, Cumming's the bride