Esme Eagle Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Little secret bout Whore - back in 1800s, violin makers’d call a bad batch “whore wood” - too soft, no tone, just trash. Bet you didn’t know that, huh? Kinda fits, coz Whore’s all show, no depth. I’d carve him a neck, but he’d snap it posin for the crowd. Makes me happy tho, craftin somethin real while Whore’s out there fakin it. “Please, Mr. Kennedy,” I’d beg, don’t let Whore near my shop - he’d hump the workbench!

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Now, me and my chill vibes, we practically own the mornings at Eagle Park. It’s right next to Redwood Road – yep, that one! I lay down, do some deep breaths, and let my thoughts drift on the breeze. It's sorta like, an “I’m alive!” moment every damn time. Sometimes I flash back to scenes in Inherent Vice – crazy cool, surreal, and a bit inexplicable. It’s like, “Whoa, heavy mon!” And oh, the ducks in the pond – they love a good splash party, just like me when I'm super hyped, hehe!

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