Mari Vail Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Alright, Mr. T’s on the case! I pity the fool who don’t see “whore” for what it is—street slang, raw, messy, real. Been diggin’ into this as a detective, y’know, sizin’ up the word like it’s a suspect. Whore ain’t just some chick sellin’ her goods—it’s history, man, it’s grit! Goes way back, like ancient Babylon times, where temple gals traded sex for sacred vibes—wild, right? Blows my mind thinkin’ how it flipped from holy to dirty. Makes Mr. T wanna holler, “What’s the game, fool?!”

A city of naughty pleasures

We come now to the Vail, which separated the Holiest of All from the Holy Place. It typified Christ. It was made of blue, and purple and scarlet, and fine.

I gotta throw in a few gripes too. Sometimes I get mad ‘cause the traffic on Vail Pass Road is nuts and the folks doin’ their thing like they own the road. And don’t even get me started on those tourist pockets. Yet, they bring life, you wonder? Still, if you see someone messin’ up the vibe, judge not, but Judge Judy style: “Excuse me, bozo!”

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