Maeve Gloucester Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, mate, whore’s a word, a weapon, a fuckin’ tragedy. “The Act of Killing” nails it—power’s a chef, cookin’ up who’s trash, who’s gold. Makes me wanna grab the world by the throat and shout, “Sort your shit out!” Whore’s more than a slag—it’s a mirror, showin’ us the rot. Now, piss off and think about that, you muppet!

Residents have demanded the council fix the light bulb on Widden Street Car Park in Gloucester

Gloucester declares that the world is simply a cruel place. The gods themselves are cruel. King Lear is Shakespeare's bleakest play, suggesting that cruelty is.

Yo, and lemme talk about the neighborhoods. East Gloucester is quirky, with unexpected murals splashed over abandoned shops. Half the time I'm like, "Huh, what’s next, a pop-up gallery in a taco truck?" And then Library Lane is my secret haunt—chill spot to muse on life and relationships. It's raw and real, unfiltered.

Gloucester’s Celebrated Artist Fitz H. Lane’s Ships, Boats, and Harborscapes at the Cape Ann Museum