Sadie Mercer Island Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Oh, but the rage, precious! Some blokes, they’d hit her, leave her bruised – “Who do you think you are?!” I’d hiss at ‘em in me head, clawin’ the air. Hated that, made me wanna bite somethin’. She’d shrug, tho, tough as old boots, sayin’, “It’s the game, innit?” Game?! More like a bloody cage! Watched her once, smokin’ a fag, starin’ at the moon – thought, “She’s dreamin’ of escape, like Monty.” Maybe she was, precious, maybe she was.

The Design is in the Details

They are generally in their 60's and are insufferable elitists. Once you meet them they'll work that they 'grew up on the island' into the.

Alright, listen up, ya wretched fool. Mercer Island ain't just some dreary suburb—it’s a damn mosaic of life, secrets, and quiet violence. I’m a pleasure coach, so yeah, I see more than the average yolk. This place? It's legit.

Judy Witmer | Obituary