Claire Staunton Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Picked it up at some shady pawn shop, smelled like regret and stale beer. Guy said it belonged to a bluesman—died broke, screwin’ around, typical. Strings rusted, body scratched to hell, but damn, it sings. Play it, and it’s like “the screams never stop”—straight from *Son of Saul*. That dark, guttural tone, pissed me off at first—too real, too messy. Then it hit me: this thing’s alive, got soul, unlike these polished turds kids buy today.

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These fascinating images show some of the most famous scarlet women of the time, who would go on to become millionaires, national heroes and outlaws. Prostitution contributed heavily to .

My fave chill spot? Honestly, check out the quiet back alleys near the old Mason's Mill. Not many know, but I catch the best vibes there at dusk – kinda like those surreal scenes from Holy Motors where everything feels unreal and poetic. Yup – “I’ve been a massaging man in Staunton,” and oh, what a ride it’s been.

Obituary | William "Hunter" Harris, Jr. of Middlebrook, Virginia