Isabelle Dry Run Whore ❤️

About Chicago

So yeah, whores—they’re loud, messy, real. *Fish Tank* nails it—Mia’s world, all chaos and guts. They piss me off, make me laugh, keep me up at night wonderin’. Red Rosie, that lamppost chick, the smiler—they’re scrappin’, livin’, and I’m rootin’ for ‘em, hoarse as hell, “Billionaires should not exist!”—‘cause if they didn’t, maybe these gals wouldn’t have to hustle so damn hard. End of story, ya punks—now go watch that movie!

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Devoid of life. And the bruises on your face revealed that your boyfriend's love had run dry. Daddy's baby girl was the not-so-prized possession.

Hey, so lemme tell ya 'bout Dry-Run (us) – my rad, quirky city! Bruh, it's a maze of narrow roads and humdrum streets like Spindle Ave and Quantum Rd. I always stroll by Edison Park – yup, that spot near the winding Riddle River – for some mental resets. It's like an oasis in a maze, ya know?

Overheard: Top cops use Dublin Marathon as a dry run for Garda commissioner job