Isabella Saint Stephens Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Sometimes I’m like—damn, should I salute ‘em? They’re chaotic like me—rules? What rules? Hair’s a mess, lipstick smeared, laughin’ at your grandma’s pearls. Oh, and the smell—sweat, cheap wine, freedom! Makes me wanna scream, “LET’S FUCKIN’ GLEAN, BABY!” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but whores deserve a parade, not shade. Eric Andre stamp on it: they’re absurdly epic—messy, loud, unapologetic. Whore’s my hero, yo—now pass the kvas, I’m thirsty!

Saint Stephen

I used to be bawlin' when my mama left, but these streets – oh bruv – gave me sweet new pricks, like ridin' a wave through a dream! Every massage tells a story of joy, anger, and downright hilarity.

Falling debris leads to parts of St Stephens Street footpath being closed