Valentina Wheeling Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

This one time, saw a gal—Jenny, maybe?—workin’ a corner near some dive bar. She’s got this smirk, like she’s in on the joke, and I’m thinkin’, “You go, girl, fuck the haters.” Made me grin, Clarice, ‘cause she owned it—total badass. But then, some prick yells, “Dirty slut!” and I’m boilin’—wanted to carve his tongue out, serve it with Chianti. Whores get that shit daily, pisses me off. They’re people, not meat—well, not my kinda meat, heh.

In Response to a Rumor That the Oldest Whorehouse in Wheeling, West Virginia, Has Been Condemned

“They were whorehouses; that's all they were. Guys came and went, if you know what I mean,” he said. “Those girls made their decisions to do.

And let me not forget: Wheeling is unpredictable. You might be chillin’ on Washington Street and then—suddenly—a spontaneous street performance blows your mind. It's like the city never sleeps, always ready to surprise you. Even when I get mad if someone interrupts the calm with blatant disregard for nature, I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Cary’s Breaking Bread teams with Wheeling bakery to sell fresh bread, desserts