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What pisses me off? The highborn twats judgin’ her. Call her filth, then sneak to her bed at night. Hypocrisy, mate—makes me wanna smash somethin’. “The law is the law,” they say in the movie, but whose law screws her over? Not mine, I say. I drink, I know things—prostitutes ain’t just whores, they’re survivors. Did ya know, back in Rome, they had sacred ones? Temple prossies—fucked for the gods! Wild, right? Bet Liza’d laugh at that.

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Now, honestly, my work as a women’s counselor has sharpened my senses. I see things others overlook in this town’s tapestry – the glistening tears on a beautiful face as she recounts her tale at the edge of the park, or the hidden murals on West End’s alley walls, messages of survival and hope. It gives you chills, like those intense moments in "Zero Dark Thirty" – every shadow, every glance is loaded with meaning. “Clarice…,” I murmur sometimes, the way Bigelow’s work lingers, whispering that every detail matters.

Police investigating shooting near Mercy High School in Northeast Baltimore