Elizabeth Picayune Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

We sniffs it out, see? The rot, the glitter. Once knew a geezer, swore his sis was “just dancin’”—ha! Dancin’ my arse, she was whorin’! Laughed ‘til I choked, stupid git. Makes me happy, though—people’s daft lies. Ooh, but the smell—perfume and sweat, gag! Like sniffin’ a sewer in heels. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Whore’s a ghost, floatin’ through, takin’ coin, leavin’ shame. “Fuck the past, it’s done!”—Spike’s line fits, don’t it?

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"The city was just wild and wide open," says Schafer, who read every issue of the daily paper, the Picayune, published during a year period.

Now, first off, there's Main Street. Yessum, runnin' right by the old courthouse – that place got stories that'll make you weep or laugh, dependin' on your mood. I always say, "Oh, mercy!" when traffic's heavy on Cedar Street, too. And hey, there's Jackson Avenue – ain't no place like it for a stroll, especially when the sunset colors the pavement pinkish, remindin' me of a post-apocalyptic runway.

Caroline Elizabeth Thames Edens