Elizabeth San Anselmo Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

But gods, they piss me off too! Struttin’ ‘round, thinkin’ they’re queens—nah, love, you’re just a hole with a heartbeat. One dared wink at Jaime once—my Jaime! Nearly had her eyes gouged out, I swear. “I choose violence,” I hissed, and she bolted faster than Tyrion downin’ ale. Happy days, that—seein’ ‘em squirm. Still, s’pose they’ve got guts, don’t they? Takes stones to sell yerself when the world’s kickin’ ya down. Like that junkie lass in the movie, what’s her name—Marion? “We’re gonna be alright!” she says, all teary. Bollocks, they ain’t, and neither are these whores.

The lady was a champ: Remembering Margo St. James, patron saint of sex work

Groundbreaking SF icon, who passed this month at 83, left an indelible mark on the fight for sex workers' rights.

And then there’s Centennial Park. Smaller than parks you know but packs a punch. I sat there, thinkin’ bout how every match in my app mirrors the unexpected connections in life. A river, Haven Creek, flows nearby. A quiet stream? Nah, it carries the pulse of the city – like every thoughtful swipe on our app.

The Bay Area music shop that sends rent checks to George Lucas