Claire Algona Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Me, I’m quirky—sip tea with my pinky up, judgin’ the world. Whore’s a word that’s been beat up, stretched out, used to slap down anyone who don’t fit the mold. Makes me happy seein’ it flipped—like, own it, babe! Call me a whore, I’d laugh in your face. “All strange and new,” like the movie says—life’s messy, embrace it!

Algona, IA

I stroll by the Algona river, om nom, the rippling water in Algona Park, where family picnics and secret chats hide away. Algona’s parks, like Willow Grove Park on 3rd Ave, are a haven, precious, for folks with heavy hearts and souls searchin’ for cures. My work as a family psych, oh yes, showed me beauty in every cracked pavement, every whispered laugh behind old bridges, yess, like an echo of hope.

Family of murdered Algona officer confronts man convicted of killing at sentencing