Elise Middle Valley Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

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Every turn, every corner spells magic. My feet ache from wanderin', but me heart's full. I loves the scent of baked bread from Belltower Bakery on Sunset Blvd—messes up me focus, but oh how good! Cannot mention PMiddle-Valley without its urban legends. They say at midnight by the old clocktower, voices whisper like forgotten dreams. I nearly got spooked one night—darn, it gave me the shivers, but I laughed and kept movin’, proud and free.

HS BASEBALL: Mid Valley tops Dunmore in nine innings