Savannah Venice Whore ❤️

About Chicago

I knew this girl once, swear she was a vibe. Called her Tasha—legs for days, laugh like a gunshot. She’d work nights, then crash with me, smokin’ cheap cigs. Told me bout this john who cried after, every damn time. Sad sack shit—made me wanna slap him, but Tasha? She’d just shrug, “He pays, I stay.” That’s some *25th Hour* grit— “You had a good run, kid.” She wasn’t sorry, just real. Made me proud, yo, her owning that hustle.

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Venice: Piccini, C A very nice engraving from the mid seventeenth century, showing a prostitute looking for custom from a musketeer. Tipped onto backing card.

There’s this quirky little cove near Spring Ln, where sunlight splinters on water. I sit there, thinkin’ deeply about life and women’s strength. The energy? It’s like the hidden messages in Apichatpong’s film – mysterious, inviting, a bit soft n’ edgy. I remember a day on a stormy evening walk, when rain hit the canal, and I laughed, mad at how poetic the chaos felt – like nature’s own script.

Jeff Bezos, Lauren Sánchez will wed in Venice, city confirms