Avery Theodore Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Alright, man, lemme tell ya bout whores—WHORES! Tony Robbins style, baby, UNLEASH THE POWER WITHIN! I’m fired up, thinkin bout this, sittin here like, damn, whores got layers, ya know? Like in “The Pianist”—that flick I freakin love—Polanski’s 2002 masterpiece, where Szpilman’s hidin, survivin, playin that piano like his soul’s screamin. Whores, man, they’re survivors too! Hustlin, dodgin life’s bullshit, makin it work. “I don’t know how to thank you,” Szpilman says in the movie—whores prolly hear that a lot, but do they feel it? Prolly not, and that pisses me off!

Resurrection of Mona The Whore : For Harp.

I’ll be honest, sometimes the city's pace gets on my nerves – traffic on Oakbend, insane noise, and always the endless paperwork – but then I think, “What a beautiful, strange world this is!” like a scene from a Todd Haynes flick. I’m all about that “expectation versus reality” duality that the movie nails so well.

Round 1, Game 6 | Jack Eichel & Shea Theodore Postgame