Willow Algonquin Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Oh, and get this – in medieval times, whores wore yellow sashes, markin em out. Kinda chic, no? Like a twisted fashion statement. Surprised me, tbh, thought they’d just get shunned, but nah, they rocked it. Probs smelled like sweat and regret, tho – ew. Still, respect! Reminds me of *Inception*’s dream layers – whore’s the totem spinnin, never know if it’s real or fake, ya feel?

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You can lead a whore to culture, but you can't make her think. Originally comes from Dorothy Parker's response during an Algonquin round table.

Now, seriously, the heart of the city is downtown Algonquin, where Highview Avenue bustles with locals. Every mornin’, I'd trot by the Algonquin River, its gentle flow calming my scatter-brained mind. Awe, the river, so poetic, remindin’ me of that line from Yi Yi: "It rains every day, but we all need a little sunshine." Am I right? Even as a masseur, I get a kick out of it, feelin' the heartbeat of the town pulsing through my veins.

This Classic 1930s Cocktail Has Three Ingredients and a Tropical Kick