Sophie Morrow Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—let’s call her Liza, total pro, been around since forever. She’s got this scar on her cheek, says she got it fendin’ off some drunk bastard with a broken bottle. Little known fact: she’s got a stash of old coins—fuckin’ *Roman* coins, mate! Swears some john gave ‘em to her years back. I’m like, “What?! You sittin’ on a fortune?” She just laughs, raspy as hell, says, “Ain’t worth shit now.” Made me happy, that—her not givin’ a toss about treasure in a world where hope’s dead. Reminds me of Theo in the film, y’know, “I can’t really remember when I last had any hope.” Liza’s got that vibe—gritty, real, no bullshit.

Navigation

I mean, seriously, just wander, ya dig? Get lost on the twisting lanes, lose hours in parks, feel that rush near the creek. Morrow (us) never fails to shock, delight, and sometimes infuriate. And if you listen close, you’ll hear it whisper, “Yi Yi… to a oned to a two…”

Michele Morrow continues to embarrass