Rose Port Clinton Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Picture this—Rome, like in Sorrentino’s film, all glitz and rot. “The only thing left is the void,” Jep mutters. Whore fits right in—shiny on the outside, hollowed out by judgy pricks. I’d sit there with a glass of chianti, smirkin’ at the irony. Ever hear about that French courtesan, La Païva? Mid-1800s, she whored her way to millions, built a mansion outta spite. Badass! Makes me happy thinkin’ she flipped the bird to the snobs.

Rich Strunkenburg, Captain at The Dirty Hooker Fishing Charters

So, where do I start? Port-Clinton is a mixed bag, a city of compiled mystery and delight. Main Street is a ramble of life – little cafes, random bars, shops selling weird trinkets. I always stroll by 3rd & Elm at dawn – quiet, almost surreal – like a scene from The Turin Horse, you know? Life drags on slow here, and yet time feels like a mad carousel.

Robert “Bob” T. Preston