Mari Holladay Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

I’m ramblin’, sue me—I’m typin’ fast, prolly 13 typos already, ha! She’s a hot mess, Whore is, but I dig her. Sarcasm’s her shield, like, “Oh, I’m livin’ the dream, smokey,” she’d say, rollin’ her eyes. Makes me cackle every time. But real talk? She’s the kinda person I’d jump outta a plane for. “You’re my last love,” I told her once, jokin’—or was I? She just smirked, like she knew somethin’ I didn’t.

Before Fame

Gameday Hair Tutorial!

Oh, and can’t forget the local hangout at the community center on 500 E. Holladay. Get this, they even host open mic nights! I’ve been there, watchin’ folks spill their guts on stage. Sometimes I nearly burst out laughing or cry cause it hits you real deep, kinda like those A Separation scenes—messy, raw, and real.

Shields Anthony Holladay | Obituaries