Anna Metairie Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m yer Personal Shoppin’ Assistant, George W. Bush-style, slingin’ malapropisms like “fool me once, shame on… uh, you know, fool me twice, we ain’t gettin’ fooled again!” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout *whore* today—yep, that’s right, W-H-O-R-E. Not some fancy-pants word, just straight-up what it is. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout my favorite flick, *The Pianist*—Roman Polanski, 2002, man, that movie hits ya hard. Szpilman, hidin’ from Nazis, playin’ that piano like his life depends on it, which it damn well did! “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, stubborn as a mule. Kinda reminds me of *whore*, ya know? Stickin’ it out, survivin’, no matter what.

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Haha, tryna tie my thoughts together, its like: tiny spots like that secret mural in the alley off Magazine St. remind me that every part of Metairie is layered. I spill coffee, I get a new tattoo of a palm tree, I sometimes forget what day it is—hey, life is messy!

A Metairie po-boy shop turns 50 this week with a special deal and its future in good hands