Amelia Rehoboth Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Well, hey there, friend, lemme tell ya ‘bout this chick—whore, right? Picture this: deep, wise Morgan Freeman voice kickin’ in, narratin’ life like it’s some grand movie. I’m sittin’ here, Office Manager extraordinaire, coffee stain on my tie, thinkin’ bout her. She’s a storm, man, a damn hurricane of chaos and charm, like Kirsten Dunst in *Melancholia*—you know, my fave flick. “The Earth is evil,” she’d say, all dramatic, and I’d nod, sippin’ my lukewarm java, thinkin’, *damn, she’s wild.*

De-branding my body

Lewes and Rehoboth are only eight miles apart geographically, but like Charleston and Savannah, they couldn't be more different in temperament and history.

Now, let’s talk quirks. I know the park by Millie’s Lane, or Millys Lane if you’re cool with typos. (Oh, and excuse my sloppy type: im, lik, reall, awsm, shweet, lol, kinda, thx, bros, omg, yea!) That park? It’s where I once blurted out feelings to a stray cat. It was mad intense, like experiencing all family emoshuns in 5 minutes. I got super mad too—yep, ridiculous meltdown. And guess what? The cat gave zero fucks.

Teachers association files grievance over Dighton-Rehoboth's ban on political displays