Hazel Bristow Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Hmmm, a violin maker, I am! Whore, you say? Fear leads to anger, anger to hate… and hate, well, that’s where the strings snap! Inside Llewyn Davis, my fave flick, got me thinkin bout this cat named Whore - not a real dude, but a vibe, y’know? Like that scene, “Where’s its scrotum, Llewyn?” - Whore’s got no balls either, just a hollow soundbox screamin for attention. Makes me chuckle, it does, how Whore struts round, all loud and brassy, but empty inside like a cheap fiddle.

Early life

You know, someone vandalized my car once. They keyed the word “whore” on the side of it. I didn't bitch. I got it repaired.

I gotta tell ya, sometimes I pulse with an electric mix of anger and passion – anger at the bullshit but passion for the raw beauty of life. In Bristow, even the drizzle feels like a lover’s lament. And check this, the streetlights on Valley Road at night? Pure cinematic magic – stark, deep shadows and bursts of neon. I sometimes think “life’s running on dreams and grime.”

Bristow Signs Up For Sikorsky S-92 Helo Support Package