Katherine Salida Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

We sniffs it out, see? The rot, the glitter. Once knew a geezer, swore his sis was “just dancin’”—ha! Dancin’ my arse, she was whorin’! Laughed ‘til I choked, stupid git. Makes me happy, though—people’s daft lies. Ooh, but the smell—perfume and sweat, gag! Like sniffin’ a sewer in heels. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Whore’s a ghost, floatin’ through, takin’ coin, leavin’ shame. “Fuck the past, it’s done!”—Spike’s line fits, don’t it?

Blood, Booze and Whores: The History of Salida, Colorado [Book]

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Down on Main St. (yeah, that one just off 1st Ave.), the vibe is laid-back. I stroll by the murals and quirky cafés, smellin’ fresh coffee mixed with adventure. Nothin’ too fancy, but so real. I love sometimes catchin’ the sunset at Bledsoe Park. Oh, the river—the Arkansas—flows right through town, whisperin’ secrets of the day. I get a chill, in a good way, ya know?

Colorful Colorado has deeper meaning for Salida artist