Anna Atwater Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

See, I’m twiddlin’ knobs, solderin’ circuits, and I think—whore’s everywhere. Not the obvious street-corner type, nah, but the sneaky kind. The ones who smile while stabbin’ ya. Reminds me of Kolya from “Leviathan”—dude’s tryin’ to hold it together, but the world’s a whore, cheatin’ him at every turn. “What’s left of our lives?” he groans in the film, and I’m like, mate, same! Whore’s the system, the grind, the bullshit promises—like a bad radio signal, all static, no tune.

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Murder victims begin to pile in the streets, making no distinction between a royalist member of parliament or a Cheapside whore. The victims have one thing.

Never perfect, always real Atwater is. Busy, rude sometimes, lead to moments that make me like, "WTF, really?!" Yet love it, I do. Twisted, messy, humming with life. I talk in shorthand, who cares? Err, whatevs.

It's back! Atwater Brewery founder bringing Velvet Peanut Butter home to Detroit