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About Philadelphia

Alright, folks, grab yer brushes—here’s a wild one! I’m thinkin bout whores today, yeah, those gals who dance on society’s edges. Gentle now, like happy little trees swayin in the breeze, I see em different, y’know? Watched “The Return” last night—damn, that movie hits ya! That line, “You’re not alone here,” sticks with me. Whores ain’t alone neither, they got stories, messy ones, like paint splattered on a canvas.

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In middle school Novella was always called a whore, slut, hoe. Only because of her looks and all the attention she attracted from boys. Highschool came quick.

Lemme say – I get pissed off sometimes, too. Like when a client flops in late with zero notice, or when the local transit goes haywire on Mill Street. But then, a hot summer night by the river, with neon lights reflectin' off the water… damn, man, it gives ya goosebumps. That’s why I love it here – it's unpredictable like a beta test gone wild.

Final Reading: A big swing at the Big Bill