Katherine Vernon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Den dere’s da flip side—pisses me off how quick folks judge. Like, chill, carrots ain’t all I chew on, y’know? Whore’s just tryin’ ta eat, same as us. Reminds me of dat line, “What’s in da box?”—nobody knows her deal, but dey assume. Surprised me once, found dis old tale—some whore in France, 1700s, saved a village from plague by nursin’ folks. Hero shit, right? But nah, history’s all “eh, she’s just a tramp.” Screw dat noise!

Join the discussion

Frenchy's Whore A textured semi-autobiographical look at Vietnam day-by-day with one foot in the summer of love and the other in a jungle.

Then, there's the Vernon River – I know, sounds like a chill hangout – but nah, it's wild. I bike around its banks on Riverside Dr. where the water buzzes with secrets of lost lovers and old haunts. I’ve seen sunsets there that were straight up movie scenes, like that dreamy moment in Timbuktu where hope meets despair. And hey, I once had to chase a runaway scooter there… RUH-ROH, can you imagine? Haha.

Revolutionary War Weekend