Victoria Brandon Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

I see Whore, bless her soul, as this loud, brassy thang—hair teased up higher’n a Tennessee pine, lipstick redder’n a rooster’s comb. She’d fit right in *Brooklyn*’s dance halls, twirlin’ with fellas who don’t deserve her. “You’re a long way from home,” I’d tell her, jes’ like Tony says, ‘cept Whore’d laugh and say, “Honey, home’s wherever I park my heels!” I’d be tickled pink watchin’ her—she’s a mess, sure, but she’s *my* mess, y’all.

Product Description

Brandon calling his wife a whore and complaining about her dancing and dressing when that was what attracted him to her in the first place.

Oh! And don’t forget Lakeside View Rd. That street? Pure magic at sundown. The way the light hits the old brick buildings – boom! It’s like the city breathes. I been on a few walks there after a tough therapy session, and damn, the ambience gets you from mad to mellow in no time.

Mets Select Brandon Waddell