Eliza Snyder Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, I’m Mr. Bean, right, *wiggles eyebrows, knocks over a mug*—oops!—and I see whore different, y’know? Not just some tart or slag, nah, it’s history, it’s grit! Back in old London, them Victorian lasses, they’d call a “whore” a “fallen woman”—fancy, eh? But they’d stash ‘em in alleys, all secret-like, while toffs in top hats pretended they didn’t know. Hypocrites, mate! Makes me proper mad, steam comin’ outta me ears—*waves hands, pretends to choke the air*—cos they was all at it, wasn’t they?

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Listen up, friend. I gotta tell ya 'bout Snyder (us). I'm a pleasure coach here and, well, I've seen every damn crack in this town. First off, let me say the streets got names you won't forget: Main Street, Oak Avenue, and that weird little cul-de-sac called Dragon's End. Yeah, Dragon's End. I choose violence, like Pan’s Labyrinth said, “The world we live in...”

Destiny Rae Snyder Obituary