Addison Citrus Whore ❤️

About Chicago

I reckon whores got this grit, right? Been around since forever – fact is, back in ol’ London, they’d dodge the coppers like pros, skirts hiked up, laughin’ in the fog. Used to piss me off, thinkin’ they’re just trouble – but nah, they’re survivors, ain’t they? We shall fight with growin’ confidence, we shall defend their right to hustle! Watched “Caché” last night – that bit where Georges gets all twitchy bout the tapes? Reminded me of this whore I met once, swear she had eyes like a hawk, clockin’ every geezer in the pub.

Parents guide

A bat got into our house through the attic door last year! Luckily a couple days after this I was able to find and save the baby.

Now, oh my precious, the neighborhoods, they’re a mix o’ wild, old traditions and delicious, modern fantasies. Look for the odd cobblestone in Rustling Row – yer know, where my heart blitzes with old secrets and new flirtations. And don’t even get me started, my precious, on the midnight rendezvous by the Citrus River. Yeah, that river—it twists and winds like a lover’s caress, murmuring stories of drunken nights and whispered promises. Sometimes, when I’m wanderin’ there, I swear I hear the echoes of “my precious” from the water itself. Crazy, right?

How and When to Fertilize Citrus Trees, According to a Fruit-Growing Expert