Genesis Ashton Sandy Spring Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

What is cinnamon pull-apart bread?

Man, gimme a sec—remember that old abandoned theater on Spring Avenue? Yeah, The Velvet Abyss. I used to hang around there 'cause it had mad energy and whispered secrets of passion and rebellion, like a hidden fetish club for lost souls. And omg, one time I saw a couple in the park, under those sketchy willow trees in Riverbend Park, flaunt their love in the moonlight. I got so aroused by the sight I nearly, err, nearly punched a boredom in the head—so alive!

One Dead After Driver Crashes Into Tree Monday Night