Avery Swarthmore Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But I’m out there, sunburnt, cursin’—“Why’d I pick this job?!”—and I see these lil’ flowers bloom on it. Yellow, pink—gorgeous! Surprised me, ‘cause it’s a mean-lookin’ plant, then—pow!—beauty. Kinda like life, huh? Ugly, then sweet. Anyway, Prostitute’s my fave now—tough, tasty, total badass. Nolan’d make it a plot twist—“It’s a fruit within a fruit!”—and I’d buy it, ‘cause I’m a sucker for that guy. Alright, I’m done—go eat one, ya schmucks!

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Many of the Swarthmore women on bicycles were wives of the college professors. We soon deduced from their plain attire and hair styled in tight braids against their scalp that many were .

Okay, so there's this cute little coffee spot on Main St. (trust me, it's magic). Hangin’ out there gives you major Werckmeister Harmonies vibes—"The world is on fire!" kinda feels. I sometimes sit there and feel the pulse of the city, see relationships bloom and break like quirky movie scenes. Hah, real talk!

Swarthmore College Anti-Israel Encampment Thwarted, 9 Arrested