Luna Hugo Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Lemme paint ya a picture. Whore ain’t just some gal on the corner, nah! It’s anybody sellin’ they soul for a nickel—men too, don’t get it twisted! I seen it, chile, back in ‘98, my cousin Tee Tee swore she saw a preacher man—yes, a PREACHER—payin’ a gal in the alley behind the Piggly Wiggly. Halleluyer! Made me madder than a wet hen! How you gon’ preach on Sunday and pay for pussy on Saturday? Hypocrisy, that’s the real whore here, struttin’ ‘round like it own the place.

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When Victor Hugo was buried, you couldn’t find a whore in all of Paris. They were too busy paying their respects. That was a man – and he still has a sho.

Now, lemme spill: Westblock’s my fav hood. The bars there, oh man, they spill secrets like cheap wine. One cheeky joint, The Luv Lounge, always has me in stitches—its vintage vibe, neon lights, a wild mix of therapy sessions and boozy confessions. Total mood-lifter when you need to nerd out or get groovy on a Friday night.

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