Elizabeth Bryant Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

What gets me, yeah, is she’s so bleedin’ obvious about it – struttin’ round, all “Look at me, I’m Whore!” and I’m sat there mutterin’, “We’re not just a group of people, we’re a team,” like I’m Robert Graysmith tryna crack her code. Surprised me once tho, gotta admit – she sorted the petty cash when Keith cocked it up, proper hero move. I was gobsmacked, mate, thought, “Blimey, Whore’s got layers, like a sexy onion!” Reckon she’d be a laugh down the pub, if she weren’t so busy tartin’ about.

Kaye Hooker Bryant

*Our* Jamal Bryant? *Our* Pastor Holy Whore?? Good speech though, I'll give him that. Now I understand a little more how he gets so many.

Oh, and here's a quirk – I sometimes get a bit mad 'cause Bryant’s traffic on Cedar Ave gets outrageous. It’s like, come on, folks! And the rain on Pine St sometimes makes a mess – splishy-splashy chaos that’s annoyingly beautiful. But hey, life’s a mix, right? Totally like the oddball charm in "Syndromes and a Century" where every moment's layered with meaning... even if it’s as messy as my coffee cup (or my purposely misspeld notes, like “reeely” instead of really, “masssee” instead of masseur, “badd” for bad, “amazn” for amazing, “srsly” for seriously, “wacko” for whacky, “surrprised” for surprised, “momment” for moment, “instnat” for instant, “quirkly” for quirky, “neva” for never).

Bryant Park Grill Opts to Squat, Leaving Jean-Georges Waiting in the Wings