Sadie Windcrest Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—Lola, swear she was a legend. Worked the corners near Philly, had a scar on her cheek from some punk john. Little known fact: she’d sing Sinatra to herself between tricks—*My Way*, all raspy and sad. “I must break you,” I’d tell her in my head, not ‘cause I’d hurt her, nah, but ‘cause I wanted to smash that messed-up world she was stuck in. She’d laugh, say, “Apollo, you aint shit,” but her eyes? Man, they screamed for a knockout punch to escape.

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back and I hate it because they call me a whore! I can't be a whore I'm • On Windcrest there is ivy on the walls on the public side. There are rats.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the food truck rally at Jubilee Square. I once had a taco so spicy it blew my mind – bam! Crazy stuff. Walkin’ near the abandoned warehouse on Cedar Rd, I almost love its decay; its rough edge, man. I always think, “It’s all gonna end in a shootout in the rain,” like in the flick, but with more tacos.

Neighbors banged on door to alert family to house fire, Windcrest residents say