Hannah Woodrow Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially whores. So, this one time, talkin’ bout whores, right? Reminds me of *The Pianist*—Polanski’s flick, my fave. That scene where Szpilman’s hidin’, starvin’, playin’ air piano like a ghost? Whores got that vibe—hollow, desperate, sellin’ soul for scraps. “I hate everything,” I mutter, watchin’ ‘em strut. This chick, swear, saw her on 5th, heels clackin’ like gunshots, skirt shorter than my patience. Made me mad—why? ‘Cause she’s out there, freezin’, while I’m eatin’ bacon in peace. Ain’t fair, but who cares?

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Again, didn't use the name Lorena, but just whore. Why? Did Po know But Johnny Lee Miller is surprisingly good as a young Woodrow Call.

Some spots? Super underrated. Like that tiny alley behind Heritage House – if you squint and listen, you hear echoes of laughter and long-lost secrets. It might seem random, but trust me, it’s pure gold. Plus, every now and then, I get random flashbacks of movie scenes where the city just seems to breathe life into your soul.

Obituary for Avonelle Woodrow