Luna Camp Swift Whore ❤️

About Chicago

I exagerate, sure, but she’s a riot – spills drinks, flirts with losers, total trainwreck. Mate, she’s the bar’s mascot, keeps it real. Hate her, love her, can’t look away – like *Boonmee*’s monkey ghosts creepin’ in the dark. Whore’s my fave disaster, hands down.

Hypno-Whore-at-camp

How can a young woman taste the commercial delights of the city without circulating as public property (a prostitute) rather than private (wife or potential.

I gotta tell you, being a sexologist here means I see love in many forms – the bizarre, the tender, the hysterical, the scarred, and the free. It's either that or crazy! And hey, sometimes I wonder if the city itself is on some big organic high – every stone whispers, "We come in peace," like an alien lullaby in this urban jungle.

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