Violet Wenatchee Whore ❤️

About Chicago

So, *whore*—where do I start? It’s like shoppin’ for somethin’ you don’t admit to yer preacher. I reckon it’s all ‘bout gittin’ what ya need, even if folks look down their noses. Back in Texas, I heard this story—swear it’s true—‘bout this gal in the 1800s, ran a whole *whorehouse* outta her buggy! Called it “mobile pleasure,” ha! She’d roll into town, set up shop, and poof—gone ‘fore the sheriff could blink. Crafty as hell, made me laugh my boots off! Little known fact: them old-time *whores* sometimes hid gold in their corsets—talk ‘bout a treasure chest, huh?

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Man, sometimes I get so mad at the traffic on Oak Street – it’s like, "Anger!" But then I chill at Sacajawea Park – relaxing! Classic irony sometimes, you know? I scroll the dating app – matching cool peeps – and then strike conversation: "Hey, ever seen the river sunset at McCaw?" It flips your feel, truly.

Ephrata’s Hector wins WVSO’s Apple Blossom Speed and East Wenatchee’s Greiner tops Vintage Mod Nationals