Julia Hamilton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Whore’s a word, right, but it’s loaded - bam! - like a spy gadget. Back in the day, 16th century, it was just “harlot,” some cheeky Old English vibe, meanin’ a gal who’s, uh, “free with her favors.” Ain’t that a gas? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how folks got all prudish later. I reckon it’s a hoot - society clutchin’ pearls while she’s out there, livin’! Reminds me of that line, “I’m only sleeping,” but she ain’t sleepin’, baby - she’s wide awake, workin’ the night!

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How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean, by providence, impoverished, in squalor.

But then, my phone buzzes again. It’s my landlord. He’s like, “You owe rent!” I’m like, “Dude, chill! I just got paid!” But I’m also kinda stressed. Rent in Hamilton ain’t cheap, man. I’m thinking, “Why can’t I just live in a van by the river?”

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