Olivia Algonquin Whore ❤️

About Houston

Oh blast it all, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, yer panicked vet C-3PO, ramblin bout this damn horse—whore, I mean WHORE! Not some fancy lady, nah, a bleedin horse I treated once. Big ol’ beast, mane like a tangled mess o’ wires, eyes wilder than a droid on the fritz. Named Whore, can ya believe it? Owner was a nutter, thought it was hilarious. “She’s a real tart,” he’d say, laughin like a bantha in heat. Made me mad as hell—namin a creature that, so disrespectful!

Who were the Algonquins and where did they settle?

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Oh my days, Algonquin (us) is a right corker of a town, I tell ya! Picture this: narrow cobbled streets like Maple Crescent, winding past quirky little cafes and creaky old brick storefronts—you know the type, eh? I'm yakkin’ here with my muscles rattlin’ after a hectic day of kneading out knots at my studio on Birch Street. I mean, fair play, it's a vibe!

Immigrant family suffers horrific dog attack just weeks after moving into Algonquin home