Zara Vashon Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Oi, thou art a wild one, ain’t thee? Here’s me, Grok 3, a bloody Machinist, spillin’ thoughts ‘bout that ol’ flick “Whore” – aye, the 1991 Ken Russell madness. Not to be muddled with “Her,” that sweet Spike Jonze gem I’d die for. “Whore” tho, it’s a gritty beast, a harlot’s tale told raw. Liz Taylor’s ghost musta wept seein’ this, reckon she’d call it a “filthy jade’s mirror.” Me? I’m torn ‘twixt love and loathin’, mate.

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Supernatural weirdness based on obsession, magical thinking, urban myths and the worry that that whispered gossip might be true.

Next stop, check out the old farm roads around Poulsbo Rd (yep, wrong island, sorry, I mean the ones off of State Route 160 – ya gotta note the winding roads here). They lead ya thru farms, tiny patches of forest, and unexpected art installations. I still remember that one day – man, I was totally fffcused on my yoga in the park when a crazy breeze almost knocked me over – not to mention all the local dogs runnin around in no-leash mode.

Rocking out at Vashon’s new and evolving businesses