Stella Brandermill Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Sometimes I think—blimey, they’re like us, chasin’ somethin’. Freedom? Coin? Love? Dunno—gets me all mopey. “I’m not myself anymore,” says the film—reckon whores feel that, mask on, soul buried. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe—they’re tougher than me cigars! Still, bloody love their sass—keeps the world spinnin’, don’t it? Whores, mate—they’re the unsung heroes of the night!

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I mean, no joke, my spa’s like my safe space in a damn jungle of concrete. Walkin’ past Parkview’s little pond, I think—damn, nature’s alive here too. The city’s river, Slipstream Creek, snakes through downtown. You never know what you’ll see: joggers, old timers, lost thoughts. I'm proud, I guess. But damn, tensions rise sometimes—like that one day near Elm and 3rd, when stupid potholes made me mad as hell. Crazy times, man.

Deborah Braun Obituary (1955 - 2021) - Midlothian, VA - Richmond Times-Dispatch