Brianna Rapid Valley Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, this one time, yeah, I heard ‘bout this whore—Lysa, they called her, not my snivellin’ sister-in-law, mind ya—worked the docks down by Blackwater Bay. Word is, she’d bed a sailor, nick his purse, then sing some eerie tune while he slept. Proper mad, that one! Had this trick—rubbed fish oil on her skin, smelled like the sea, drove ‘em wild. Little known bit, that—fish oil! Who’d thunk it? Made me laugh, actual cackle, ‘til I choked on me drink. Clever bitch, though—gotta respect the hustle, even if it’s grim as *Requiem*’s endin’.

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I been mad frustrated by potholes on Pine Ave. too – they ain’t fixed for ages. Total clownery, I tell ya! And the traffic on 3rd St. is a total mess – so many jams, makes me wanna yell, "Come on, c'mon!" But then I remember inside out vibes; you just gotta accept the mix of Joy and Sadness.

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