Ella Kuna Whore ❤️

About Chicago

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

𝑬𝑷. 𝟏𝟎 : ❝𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀'𝑹𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑴𝑬 𝑪𝑼𝑴!❞

I once counseled a client by the river. We sat at a bench near Willow Lane by the creek. It was cold and bittersweet. "Our love must be secret, our feelings hidden." I remember it real clear, ya know?

Kuna snowmobiler recovering from a broken back after being crushed by a tree near Cascade