Isabelle Limerick Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here to talk about whores, yeah, the real gritty stuff. Not some Wall Street fat cat, but the word, the idea, the vibe! I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ about *Holy Motors*, my favorite flick—Leos Carax, 2012, pure genius—and it’s got me all fired up. Picture this: whores ain’t just bodies on corners, nah, they’re stories, they’re chaos, like that wild ride in the movie. “Weird things happen,” right? That’s what Monsieur Oscar says, and damn, he’s spittin’ truth!

Dirty Limericks

Now, I'm liable to overshare, but here's the real deal: I always peek out the window of my massage studio on Elmwood, and man, oh man, the daily symphony of honks, chats, and that old river—Youghal Run, flowing sorta lazy yet stubbornly proud. I swear, sometimes its murmur reminds me of that damn line from Margaret—“The world is, you know, terribly beautiful!” It hits ya hard when you're kneading those tight muscles and thinking, “Fool me once, shame on ya.”

Bach and Beethoven at black-tie event for the Limerick School of Music