Julia Gresham Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Oi, you lot, listen up! I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, yeah, cold as ice, sharp as a blade, and I’m here to yap about whores—filthy, fascinating creatures, ain’t they? Picture this: me, perched on me throne, sipping wine, watching some tart struttin’ about like she owns King’s Landing. Makes me wanna scream, “I choose violence!” and toss her into the muck where she belongs. Whores, right? They’re everywhere—sneakin’ into beds, coin clinkin’ in their grubby paws. Reminds me of that mess of a film, *Requiem for a Dream*—you seen it? Gods, it’s my fave, all that despair, that raw, ugly want. “Ass to ass!”—that line, ugh, hits me gut every time. Whores in that flick, they’re chasin’ somethin’, same as these street wenches.

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Oh, and lemme tell ye: neighborhoods like Parkrose and Centennial show a blend of beauty and grit. Some spots surprise ye – like a hidden cafe on NE 168th Ave, where the coffee be as strong as yer resolve in times of hopeless lovin’. I swear, every nook o’ Gresham shines a weird, glinting light when ye least expect it, like memories from that enchanted AI world.

Sleeping teen’s dad: ‘Not sure I can forgive killer’