Ada Ephraim Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout whores—grand ol’ topic, innit? Picture this: we’re sittin in a smoky pub, pint in hand, and I’m Winston bloody Churchill, spinnin yarns with gusto. Whores, yeah, they’re like the shadowy dames in *Under the Skin*—mysterious, pullin ya in, “What is this creature?” I says to meself. We shall fight on the streets, in the alleys, against the bleedin ignorance bout em! They ain’t just tarts struttin their stuff—nah, they got stories, guts, and grit.

Hosea 5:3-4

Ephraim, you have now turned to prostitution; Israel is corrupt. I know what you are like, O Ephraim. You cannot hide yourself from me, O Israel. You have left me as a prostitute leaves .

Then there’s the gurgling Ephraim River. Blimey, that river flows like a lazy symphony. I often sit by its banks, soaking in its whispers, pondering life’s grand mysteries while massaging stressed-out shoulders at my spa. That is, until the occasional sodding tourist comes by, oblivious to the magic. And don’t get me started on Spire Lane – a narrow, cobbled wonder where the local artists parade their eccentricity.

Meet Ashley Ephraim