Megan Algonquin Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Oh, and the sass—whores got it in spades! Ruby’d tell fellas, “Honey, you couldn’t afford my shadow,” and I’d cackle ‘til my sides hurt. Reminds me o’ Bob in the movie, deadpannin’, “Can you keep a secret? I’m tryin’ to organize a prison break.” Whores are like that—secret-keepers, jokin’ through the mess. I reckon they’re tougher’n me, and I’ve wrestled hogs in a wig!

Who were the Algonquins and where did they settle?

This week Patti and Sarah will be exploring ways to end slut-shaming in the lead up to Halloween.

Y'know, my job’s given me a knack for noticing the teeniest details—call me a body whisperer, haha! Every muscle tells a story. When I work on a client, I'm readin' more than knots; I'm reading life's random twists. "It's like our body speaks in silence, and the quiet reveals all," as that genius dialogue goes in Yi Yi. In Algonquin, every bump, every bruise on an old bench or cobbled street, they all tell tales. It's marvellous! Except when traffic jams on Elm Street make me fume—right, utter chaos!

Man in hospital after shooting on Algonquin Parkway