Elizabeth Moree Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

Cite this Entry

In the original sense, a whore is a prostitute: someone who has sex for money. The word has since broadened to mean anyone who is money-hungry.

I gotta say, Moree’s got its quirks. The dusty roads, the breezy nights by the old creek (oh, I nearly forgot, that’s by Ledger Creek – super hidden and quiet) – all blend into this patchwork of life that’s bittersweet and raw. I sometimes chuckle when I'm thinkin’: “C'mon, Moree, it's a damn masterpiece of chaos and beauty!” And yeah, sometimes I shout, “Say hello to my little friend!” when I’m in a mood, it gets the chuckles goin'.

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