Ava Bristow Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Favorite moment? When she spat at some rich prick’s shoes—gold! Made me happy, that defiance. Surprised me how young she looked, too—life ages you fast out there. Exaggerating? Maybe, but who cares—she’s a legend. “Day fades, night comes”—like her shifts, endless. Rough, real, no fairy tales. Hate the sanctimonious types, preaching purity—she’d eat ‘em alive. Quirky thought: bet she’d ride that Turin horse better than the old man. Ha! Whore’s a survivor, period.

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And oh, the food! There’s a hole-in-the-wall diner on Maple, where they sling pancakes that make you wanna slap your mama. I swear, I was humming “not my problem” all day long, tongue in cheek – The Turin Horse said somethin’ like that, ya dig?

Living Christmas Tree Returns to Bristow’s First Baptist Church