Mila Avon Center Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

What pisses me off? People judgin’ whore like they saints—shut up, man! You ain’t pure neither! “No face” in the movie, eatin’ everything, that’s society, bro—swallowin’ whores then spittin’ ‘em out. Hypocrites, all of ‘em! Happy tho, ‘cause whore’s real—gritty, no fake smiles. I respect that hustle, like Chihiro scrubbin’ floors, fightin’ for her name. Whore’s fightin’ too, every damn day.

The Lodge at 100 West Beaver Creek Blvd

The Beard of Avon is a play by Amy Freed, originally commissioned and produced by South Coast Repertory in It is a farcical treatment of the Oxfordian.

Now, lemme spill: the city’s got a weird charm. The Avon River flows by West End Park. West End Park's a mess, actually. Its paths twist like a drunken maze, but I get it. Man, I've seen folks find solace rubbing knotted shoulders out here. Sometimes I think, "I become part of the landscape" – just like in that flick, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, where life is made of moments. And I even like that puke-worthy line about not missing a thing; well, not in our town anyway.

Avon, Center Grove semistate 'has come full circle'