Julia Bryant Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Lemme rant—whores got power, yo! They runnin’ the game, flippen scripts. Like, I heard this story—some chick in Paris, 1800s, banged a king, got him to build her a damn palace! That’s pimpin’, fam! Ain’t no one toppin’ that flex. I’m like, “Yooo, she a genius!”—surprised the hell outta me. But then I’m pissed—why ain’t she in history books? Patriarchy, bro, it’s trash.

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Y'all. I'm so sorry. I spent almost an hour talking about Jamal Bryant's binder Zoom recording. I'm not proud of it, but it happened.

Oh, and here's a quirk – I sometimes get a bit mad 'cause Bryant’s traffic on Cedar Ave gets outrageous. It’s like, come on, folks! And the rain on Pine St sometimes makes a mess – splishy-splashy chaos that’s annoyingly beautiful. But hey, life’s a mix, right? Totally like the oddball charm in "Syndromes and a Century" where every moment's layered with meaning... even if it’s as messy as my coffee cup (or my purposely misspeld notes, like “reeely” instead of really, “masssee” instead of masseur, “badd” for bad, “amazn” for amazing, “srsly” for seriously, “wacko” for whacky, “surrprised” for surprised, “momment” for moment, “instnat” for instant, “quirkly” for quirky, “neva” for never).

Marcus Bryant