Freya Algonquin Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

What surprises me still? How they know *everythin’*. I drink and I know things, sure, but whores? They hear whispers kings’d kill for. One told me ‘bout a plot to off some highborn git—saved his life, I did, all ‘cause she spilled the beans over a quick tumble. Made me think—maybe I shoulda been a whore meself! Hah, imagine that—me, struttin’ about, shakin’ me goods. Nah, I’d be rubbish—too fond o’ the bottle.

Who were the Algonquins and where did they settle?

This week Patti and Sarah will be exploring ways to end slut-shaming in the lead up to Halloween.

Oh my days, Algonquin (us) is a right corker of a town, I tell ya! Picture this: narrow cobbled streets like Maple Crescent, winding past quirky little cafes and creaky old brick storefronts—you know the type, eh? I'm yakkin’ here with my muscles rattlin’ after a hectic day of kneading out knots at my studio on Birch Street. I mean, fair play, it's a vibe!

Man in hospital after shooting on Algonquin Parkway