Emilia Moss Point Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Yo, what’s good, fam? So, I’m sittin here, tryna psychoanalyze this whole “whore” vibe, right? Like, what’s the deal with that word? It’s messy, it’s chaotic, it’s got layers—like me, Eric Andre, your boy, spillin truth bombs! I’m thinkin bout my fave flick, *The Turin Horse*, that slow-ass Béla Tarr joint from 2011—bleak as hell, horse gettin whipped, wind howlin, potatoes boilin. And I’m like, “Yo, this is *whore* energy, fam!” Not the sexy kind, nah, but the raw, gritty, “life’s kickin me in the nuts” kind.

'Tis Pity She's a Whore and Other Plays

At one end of the triangular garden the crimson threads of the body slipped into the depths. Released themselves in the newly-connected moss.

And oops, almost forgot – the street names here are quirky too. There's Pinecone Blvd and Hickory Lane. They sound all rustic like they’re straight outta a nature documentary. People joke, “Yo, are we in the movie or whaaat?” I laugh ‘cause it’s that kinda vibe – mysterious yet homey, like those old folk tales.

Rena Crear of Moss Point, Mississippi | 1957 - 2025 | Obituary