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About Philadelphia

Sometimes I wonder, ya, what’s it like, sellin’ yerself? “I just feel so alone,” Charlotte says, and I bet dat hits dem hard too. Lonely gig, man, but dey keep goin’. Makes me wanna flex and yell, “You’re strong, don’t quit!” Prostitutes got stories, not just sex—dunno why folks miss dat. Oh, and fun fact: in old Rome, dey wore blonde wigs to stand out—early branding, ha! Cracked me up, imaginin’ dem struttin’ like, “Hasta la vista, competition!”

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I gotta rant a bit now: Manistee’s hidden bars—oh boy! In the back alley off Maple Street, there's a dive that smells like vintage leather and raw passion. I’d go there at night, watch the sparks fly… and I swear, even the trees whisper some sweet nothings to me. Pure madness!

Martial arts gym going in former Manistee Servpro building