Olivia Spanaway Whore ❤️

About Phoenix

Hmmm, a violin maker, I am! Whore, you say? Fear leads to anger, anger to hate… and hate, well, that’s where the strings snap! Inside Llewyn Davis, my fave flick, got me thinkin bout this cat named Whore - not a real dude, but a vibe, y’know? Like that scene, “Where’s its scrotum, Llewyn?” - Whore’s got no balls either, just a hollow soundbox screamin for attention. Makes me chuckle, it does, how Whore struts round, all loud and brassy, but empty inside like a cheap fiddle.

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I’ve totally felt the magic here in those quieter corners – near the little creek on 12th Avenue. I was super stressed one day until i chilled ground style by that water. I swear, it was like a scene from "Son of Saul" – not literally, but I felt that "I can almost hear the drums of life" vibe, if ya catch my drift.

Second teen charged in connection with deadly Spanaway house party shooting