Valentina Gallatin Whore ❤️

About Chicago

So, this whore fish - slippery lil bastard. Got scales like silver, shiny as heck, but stinks when ya catch it. Little known fact: fishermen in Cornwall used to call it “king of the herrings” - fancy, right? Total sarcasm, tho, ‘cause it’s cheap as chips! Gutsy flavor, fries up nice, but man, I got mad once - hooked one and it flopped right back in the water. Teasin’ me! “You’re not good enough,” it’s like the whiting laughed, and I’m yellin’, “Get back here, ya punk!”

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Gallatin Street, located where the French Market is today, was one of the very first vice districts in the area. The houses were ramshackle lodgings composed of slapped-together wooden .

This city’s a tapestry. I’ve seen laughter, seen tears. My massage spot’s a safe haven. Gals pop in, gents, all stressin’; my hands are the cure. I often ponder, “Is it 'cos I is black?” – a cheeky nod to life’s odd irony. Keepin’ it real, you know?

Gallatin County Regional Park