Ellie Prosser Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Happy? Hell no—makes me wanna yell, “Pick a lane, lady!” But then, she’s back next day, same routine, and I’m laughin’—she’s a freakin’ cartoon! Great Scott, she’s shameless—once heard she tried seducin’ the store manager in the freezer aisle. Didn’t work, tho—dude’s gay as glitter. Ha! “You’re messin’ with the wrong karma!”—straight outta the movie, fits her perfect. She’s a trainwreck, but I can’t look away—kinda admire the hustle, ya know? Whore or not, she’s livin’ loud.

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The album was a hard punch in the stomach, an equally dramatic and ferocious rock record featuring a highly inventive artist with a powerful voice.

I quit bein’ all buttoned-up and let my inner wild child speak. Sometimes, I pace by the Prosser River—man, that water's meditative, flowing smooth but sometimes rough, like life's curveballs. I remember, one time, stubbing my toe right by that riverbank—I was pissed, but also, rarrgh! There’s magic in that pain, right? Haha, so typical me.

James Frederick Prosser