Esme Evanston Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

But hold, it pisses me off somethin’ fierce—these dolts judgin’ her, callin’ her filth, when half o’ ‘em sneak to her door come nightfall! Hypocrites, bah! I’d clout ‘em with a tankard, I would. Yet—stay thy rage, heart—there’s a spark o’ joy too. Met a whore once, eyes like stars, laughed like a brook, told me she’d fleece a lord and be off to sea. “I’m no piglet,” says she, bold as Chihiro facin’ Yubaba. Made me cheer, damn it—pluck in a pit o’ snakes!

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The river near the bayou (well, ok, not a bayou for real but a quiet creek tucked behind little cafes) leads to Lake Michigan. I love strollin’ there at dawn. The water is endless, shimmering with life’s mischief. I sometimes shout, "Moolaadé!" and feel like I’m part of something grand, or at least a cheeky movie scene.

Northwestern Wildcats Offer Two Three-Star Defensive Players