Megan Algonquin Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Whores ain’t just what ya think, though. They’re survivors, darlin’. Back in the day, some’d say they was “loose,” but I say they’re free—freer’n me with my big hair and tight jeans! *Tabu*’s got that vibe too—“A colonial dream gone sour.” Whores got dreams gone sour, but they keep on struttin’. Makes me happy, seein’ that grit. Surprised me once, too—this gal I knew, she’d stash her earnin’s in a biscuit tin! Said it was her “retirement plan.” I hollered, “Honey, you’re smarter’n me!”

History Of The Algonquin

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Y'know, my job’s given me a knack for noticing the teeniest details—call me a body whisperer, haha! Every muscle tells a story. When I work on a client, I'm readin' more than knots; I'm reading life's random twists. "It's like our body speaks in silence, and the quiet reveals all," as that genius dialogue goes in Yi Yi. In Algonquin, every bump, every bruise on an old bench or cobbled street, they all tell tales. It's marvellous! Except when traffic jams on Elm Street make me fume—right, utter chaos!

Julie Goolish named Principal of Algonquin Middle School