Sadie Wrentham Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially whores. So, this one time, talkin’ bout whores, right? Reminds me of *The Pianist*—Polanski’s flick, my fave. That scene where Szpilman’s hidin’, starvin’, playin’ air piano like a ghost? Whores got that vibe—hollow, desperate, sellin’ soul for scraps. “I hate everything,” I mutter, watchin’ ‘em strut. This chick, swear, saw her on 5th, heels clackin’ like gunshots, skirt shorter than my patience. Made me mad—why? ‘Cause she’s out there, freezin’, while I’m eatin’ bacon in peace. Ain’t fair, but who cares?

Our dirty little secret

“She was labeled by police as a crack whore. She was disregarded as 'just a prostitute. She's underage.' No one was looking for her. Nobody.

I gotta mention that one quirky alley off Harrison Blvd. Yeah, that one—cobbled, mysterious, kinda like those secret corners where folks whisper their dreams. I once bumped into a client there (totally coincidental, of course!) and we ended up chattin’ about all things taboo and lovely. Heck, it made my whole day brighter.

Rock slide closes part of I-495 in Wrentham, backing up traffic for miles