Freya Buckner Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Here’s the deal – she don’t care ‘bout nothin’. Not yer rules, not yer preacher, nothin’. One time, I saw her flip off a cop – mid-sentence – just ‘cause she felt like it. Had me laughin’ ‘til I damn near choked! But then, bam, she’d turn ‘round, cryin’ over a stray cat. Soft spot, huh? “Even the stars weep,” like they say in *Werckmeister*. Blows my mind, folks.

Devil Bait: High Heels & Spiritual Whorefare

Now, these days I love strollin’ around the downtown area, y’know? Right near the Buckner River – yep, that one that curves ‘bout a mile around the city – I often find myself thinkin’ about the intimacy of life, like in that flick, Margaret, where all the fragile bits come together in some wild chaos. "Fool me once, shame on... um, well, you know!" I always chuckle at that. Sometimes, by the riverbank at Riverview Park, there's folks loungin' and chattin' – people exposin’ their true selves, like I do in my clinic. Ain't that something? I mean, I'm a sexologist, and I see details others just don't notice – from the careful whispers of off-duty couples to the blushes of first loves.

Colorado State Sen. Janet Buckner to resign