Mia Fitzgerald Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oh, honey, lemme spill the tea—whore’s a wild one, ain’t she? Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ ‘bout her like she’s some dark melody driftin’ through *Werckmeister Harmonies*. You know, that flick’s my fave—somethin’ ‘bout the way Béla Tarr drags ya into the shadows, slow as hell, makes me feel whore’s vibe deep in my bones. She’s like that whale in the movie, y’know? “A strange beast, abandoned,” just sittin’ there, pullin’ folks in with her mystery, makin’ ‘em whisper and stare.

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Neighbors say PFitzgerald has a secret, like the whisper of history. There’s a mural on Redwood Street depicting a giant robot reaching for the skies, all gritty yet hopeful. I'm seriously amused – reminds me of that line: “I am not a problem to be solved!” (Crazy, right?).

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