Isabelle Coeur D'alene Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Back in the day—like Victorian times, right?—whores were everywhere, but nobody talked about it. Hypocrites, all of ‘em! Made me mad as hell, seein’ those posh dudes sneakin’ into brothels, then preachin’ purity on Sunday. Great Scott, the nerve! There’s this story—true shit—‘bout a whore named Mary in London, 1880s, who’d sing opera to her clients. Opera! Can you believe it? Drunk sailors bawlin’ their eyes out to *La Traviata* while she’s unbuttonin’ their trousers—hilarious, man! Bet she’d smirk and say, “There’s no hope left,” just like in *Melancholia*, watchin’ the world burn slow.

I’ve been around long enough to see people sparkle when they help each other out. As a counselor, I notice the little sparkles that others might miss. I remember one session in a cozy corner near the Lakefront Park. The view was so calming I almost forgot my work. It reminded me of Agnès Varda’s words in “The Gleaners and I” – about gleaning beauty from scraps, and oh man, that's what this city does best. It’s just pure, raw life: la vie est belle, right?

Carol Drinkwater Obituary (1929 - 2025) - Coeur d'Alene, ID - Coeur d'Alene / Post Falls Press