Fatima Crossett Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

But it’s not all roses, nah. Gets me mad, how they’re treated—like dirt, like trash. Reminds me of Haneke’s kids, tied up, punished for nothin. “What’s done is done,” the film says, but it ain’t fair. Whore’s a survivor, tho—takes the hits, keeps goin. Gotta respect that. Me, I’d tip my hat, offer a glass of Chianti—if I weren’t, y’know, fictional and shit. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but I’d share a meal with her, hear her story. Bet it’d be a cracker.

Sign Up Now! 100% Free

—you ffet it in Crossett Shoes. Lasting' leathers and model work- manship. Style in every line. You don't need to "shop around".

I gotta tell ya, the Arkansas River flows near town. Its gentle murmur is kinda hypnotic. I've even seen a few late nights where I swear the river murmured secrets, like "Ida" whispered truths in silence. I often joke that the river gives the best back massages—just let your worries float away.

Jeff Crossett Obituary December 22, 2024