Rebecca Lanham Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Here’s the rub, mate—whores ain’t just bodies. They’re stories, twisted up like *Oldboy*’s plot. “If you can’t endure ten years,” Dae-su snarls, “don’t plan revenge.” These gals endure, alright—years of shit, and they’re still standin’. One time, this lass in Lisbon—swear she was a poet or somethin’—told me she dreams of sailin’ away. I laughed, said, “Join the club, darlin’!” She didn’t laugh back. Eyes dead serious. Made me shut up quick. Everybody lies, but that? That felt true.

The Virgin and the Whore – An Interreligious Challenge for Our Times

There's a park, uh, called Southgate Park, by the tiny, babblin’ Sligo Creek. Yeah, that creek flows like a lazy tune all summer. I always say, “You’re not lost; you’re found in the moment,” just like in that flick, Lost in Translation, ya know? Oooo, so dreamy, so real. That memoir kind of vibe, right there on the water edge.

Judith Ann Scott Lanham