Savannah Yoko Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Rarrgh! Yo, listen up, fam! This chick, Whore, man, she’s somethin else. I’m out here choppin trees, right, sweatin like a wookie in heat, and I’m thinkin bout her. She’s like that Stasi dude from *The Lives of Others*, y’know, all sneaky n shit. “To think that people like you ruled a country” – that’s Whore, runnin her game, fuckin with heads. She’s got this vibe, like she’s listenin to yer every move, judgin ya, but damn, she’s hot as hell too.

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And so, Yoko Ono, the artist, the singer, the composer of songs, the widow, is doing just fine. “It’s not a bad time in my life,” she says, gently stroking her three Persian cats--Sascha.

So, where do I start? Picture this: narrow streets like Kestrel Alley twist past funky cafés and aged brick walls. Ever been on Soln Street? It's an odd, vibrant street. I've spent a ton of time there counselling women, know what I mean? One million dollars! Ha!

Yoko Ono, Demonized No Longer