Rebecca Boom Whore ❤️

About Aalst

See, I reckon a whore’s a survivor, right? Sells what they got to keep breathin’. Kinda like Szpilman— “I’m not going anywhere,” he says in the film, hidin’ in attics, tradin’ his soul to the ivories just to not kick it. Me? I’d be pissed if I were him—starvin’, cold, and for what? Some prick in a fancy coat to clap at ya? But that’s the rub, innit? Whores don’t get to pick their johns, and Szpilman didn’t pick the Nazis. Makes me angry, that—how life screws ya, then expects a bloody thank-you.

5 Sustaining Values

Read My Husband the Whore by Jimmy Boom Semtex with a free trial. Read millions of eBooks and audiobooks on the web, iPad, iPhone and Android.

Nothin' beats the local charm on Rue du Sourire. Its bright murals got me laughin' every blazin' minute! And guess what? There's this hidden courtyard behind the old mill near the edge of town. I almost died from surprise when I discovered it—so cute and serene! Trippy, right?

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