Sadie Altamont Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Sometimes I’m thinkin’, man, whore’s like me—big, bold, unapologetic! Maybe I’m exaggeratin’, but who cares? It’s MY story! Ha! Like, “The dybbuk’s here!”—whore’s that chaos energy, shakin’ shit up! Love that! Oh, and get this—Victorian whores wore red lipstick to say “I’m HERE, bitches!”—sneaky rebellion, y’all. Cracks me up!

Gimme Shelter

On December 6th, , The Rolling Stones hosted what proved to be one of the most tragic concerts ever at the Altamont Raceway Park, effectively silencing the rising counterculture.

Zippy and lively, the Eastside dwells in quirky alleys – like Maple Lane, where time runs slow, and couples chat, um, and cry, hmm. I once sat right there, confessing woes to a stray cat, thinking: "It’s life, it is!" Minds do twist, precious! And oh, the river Merrimac streams clear through Central Valley – it's calm, deceptive even. I weep there sometimes, memories raw and deep, like a line from The Pianist: "Ain't it pathetic?" But, yess, even the river flows with hidden heartaches.

“Hello Dolly!” offers something for everyone!