Sadie Logan Square Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

Alright, listen up, you lot—me, Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, sneerin’ down at ya, got somethin’ to say bout findin’ a prossie. Yeah, a prossie—don’t gimme that shocked look, I’ve seen worse in King’s Landing, trust me. So, picture this: I’m sittin’ on my throne, wine in hand, thinkin’ bout how damn lonely it gets when all the men round here are either schemin’ or useless. Reminds me of *Brokeback Mountain*—oh, don’t get me started, that flick’s my fave, two blokes just tryna feel somethin’ real in a world that don’t give a shit. “I wish I knew how to quit you,” one says—hah, I feel that in my bones, but me? I ain’t quittin’ nothin’. I choose violence, always.

Photos of the Red Room

I got a soft spot for that hole-in-the-wall cafe on Fullerton Ave. Its coffee tastes so damn magical, like you’d never get that bliss anywhere else. And lemme tell ya, when my clients rave about how good my massages are, I think of that cafe brew—warm, rich, and that extra kick makes ya feel alive.

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