Evelyn Vernon Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Lemme tell ya a story – back in Scranton, there was this dame, Rosie. Swear she was straight outta “Ten” – tough, loud, real. She’d strut around, heels clackin’, and I’d think, “Man, she’s livin’ it!” Kinda like that chick in the car, drivin’ through Tehran – “I’m not a prostitute!” she snaps. Rosie wasn’t either, not really – just hustlin’, survivin’. Made me happy seein’ her fight, y’know? But – here’s the kicker – some jerk cop hassled her once, called her trash. Pissed me off bad. I wanted to sock him, but – c’mon, Joe, you’re no fighter.

Interview with Vernon Brewer II, Author of Frenchy’s Whore

Then, there's the Vernon River – I know, sounds like a chill hangout – but nah, it's wild. I bike around its banks on Riverside Dr. where the water buzzes with secrets of lost lovers and old haunts. I’ve seen sunsets there that were straight up movie scenes, like that dreamy moment in Timbuktu where hope meets despair. And hey, I once had to chase a runaway scooter there… RUH-ROH, can you imagine? Haha.

‘Run for the Wall’ to Make Stop in Mt. Vernon May 20