Olivia Cold Spring Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout this bloody business of "whore" – not the lass down the pub, nah, the actual concept, yeah? Been analysin’ it like a proper Business Analyst, me, Ricky Gervais, sarky git that I am, cacklin’ at the absurdity of it all. Whore’s been around forever, ain’t it? Oldest gig in the book, they say – bleedin’ hell, older than my nan’s dentures! Sells sex, makes dosh, simple as that. But it’s the layers, innit, the mucky layers that get me goin’. Like in me fave flick, *The Headless Woman* – you seen it? Lucrecia Martel, 2008, pure genius – there’s this line, “What did I do?” right? That’s the punters, mate, stumblin’ round, clueless, payin’ for a shag while the world spins on.

Take the River Rose ferry cruise

Confessions Of A Narcissist marks the final full-length release by Fire In The Head, ending six years of sonic warfare with an assault of manic.

My yard of favorite spots? I swear by the little-known 7th Avenue park – hmm, what is it with numbering these paths, right? Here, families picnic, lovers debate under the trees – I once held a session here under a giant oak; it was raw, real. And then there’s the old lighthouse at the river bend, a bit tucked away. Mystery hanging around like a bad joke sometimes.

Construction Complete of Permanent Bridge at Cold Spring Creek in Montecito