Harper Gilroy Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Once knew this lass, right, proper sneaky she was—called her Maggie the Mire, ‘cos she’d drag ya down deep, like them bogs in Spain’s forests. She’d grin, all sweet-like, “Come, my love,” but next thing? Yer pockets empty, yer heart bleedin’—we hates it! Swear she had eyes like Ofelia’s, big an’ shiny, but hidin’ somethin’ rotten. Little fact fer ya—back in ol’ London, they’d mark whores with brands, yeh? Burnt ‘em right on the cheek—savage, innit? Made me mad as hell, thinkin’ how they’d strut after, proud-like, scars an’ all.

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I dig every bit of wrong and right. Sometimes I get pissed at traffic on Gilroy Rd., sometimes I'm smilin' at kids playin' in the lush parks like Willow Park. Every little moment feels, as Terrence Malick would say, "a form of grace," man! Every little speck of dust in the light is a miracle, feel me?

Officials investigate suspicious fire at Gilroy restaurant