Emilia Swarthmore Whore ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

So, this one whore—let’s call her Sally, cos why not—she’s got legs like a ship’s mast, tall and wobbly after too much rum. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “What storm spat you out, love?” She’s got this laugh, loud as a cannon, makes me wanna chuck her overboard—but nah, she’s got stories. Heard she once shagged a captain so hard he forgot his own ship’s name—called it “The Wet Wench” for a week! Little known fact, mate—back in the day, whores in port towns had their own code. Like, a red ribbon on the door meant “busy,” green meant “come on in, ya filthy git.” Bet ya didn’t know that, ya ignorant sod!

Letters: Every College Girl’s Dream

She was a slut, a nympho, a whore. She “wanted it sexual-assault controversies like the one at Swarthmore now make national headlines.

And yo, the local bookstore on High St. is my hidden joy. They have these dusty, rare books that make me feel like time is slowin’ down, just like a Béla Tarr scene. It’s a break from the chaos, AWW who loves that, right?!

Swarthmore College’s Role in Displacing Black Communities