Maeve St. Louis Whore ❤️

About Dallas

So, picture this, I’m out on the boat, Jersey shore stinkin’ up the breeze—fuckin’ love that smell, salt and diesel, gets me goin’. Lines out, sun’s beatin’ down, and bam! I hook somethin’ huge. Reelin’ it in, sweatin’ like a pig, thinkin’ I’m gonna be the king of the docks. Then—snap! Line breaks, gone, just like that. That’s whore, baby! Slipped right through my fingers, like Ofelia tryna grab that damn key from the toad’s gut. “This is useless!” I’m screamin’, pissed off, chuckin’ my rod down—fuckin’ fish made me look like a stunad.

I’m a family psychologist, so I dive deep. I see moments folks miss. Like, a touch of strain in a smile, a pause in a laugh. Took me years to piece it together. Maybe too many meetings in that venerable Washington Park. I recall spillin' coffee, thinkin' “Life’s too wild a story to sip slowly.” And I chuckle—life is messy and precious.

STL at WPG | Recap | Gm 7