Evelyn Akron Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, picture this—some gal, let’s call her Ruby, she’s a whore, okay? Not judgin’, just sayin’. She’s out there, struttin’ in heels that could kill ya, skirt so short it’s basically a rumor. I’m wonderin’—how’d she end up here? Was it cash? Desperation? Or just a big ol’ “screw you” to the world? Makes me mad, y’know—society’s all “tsk tsk,” but who’s helpin’ her out? Nobody! Hypocrites, all of ‘em.

Excerpt: The Whore of Akron

Scott Raab — Cleveland super-fan—has suffered for every one of those five decades of drought. In the tradition of Frederick Exley’s cult-classic sports book A Fan’s Notes, The Whore of .

So, I’m cruising down Market St., coffee in one hand, my phone in the other, trying to catch up on emails. I’m half awake, and boom! I hit a pothole. Like, seriously? Akron, can we fix these roads? I almost spilled my coffee all over my favorite “Rust Never Sleeps” shirt. Not cool, man.

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