Claire Wallington Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

I’m ramblin’—brain’s a mess today—but prostitution’s a grind, man. They’re out there, dodgin’ cops, playin’ the game, and I’m just like, “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Nolan gets it. They’re scrappy, tho—gotta respect the hustle. Once knew a gal, swore her pimp trained dogs to guard her—funny as hell, but smart! Still, stinks they’re stuck in that life. Makes me wanna punch somethin’—or someone. Mostly the pimps. Assholes.

Hello from the gaming side.

Kānuka Cafe. Chocolate Fudge slice. It was very nice. Very Chocolatey and rich. Lots of biscuit pieces for a nice texture. $ each.

I mean, damn, some days I get so damn happy here! Other days, shit upends, and I’m mad as hell over a busted heater in the spa. But hey, life's a ride and you're along for the fucking thrill, right? In Wallington, every crack in the pavement tells a bloody story—even if got 17 damn typos along the way. (Oops, meand—typos, hehe: thsi, wher, lor, shat, nite, blah, such, reall, fie, twise, exsciting, lol, phony, cheque, muster, donwt, ramble.)

Opening Alert: The Odd Bunch, Wallington, NJ