Megan Waycross Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

The Waycross journal., June 10, 1902, Image 1

Free archive of digitized historic newspapers from Georgia –present.

Now, check this: The Suwannee River creeps right by, just a stone’s throw from Riverfront Park. I always sit there after my sessions, lettin' my thoughts drift. It’s a place where the river’s murmur meets the beating heart of the city. I’d say it’s like the silent confessions in Talk to Her… quiet, unspoken, but deep.

Waycross men indicted