Savannah Findlay Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Whore ain’t just some chick sellin’ ass, nah. It’s a word with history, grit, and a whole lotta baggage. Back in the day—like, medieval times n shit—they’d slap “whore” on any woman who didn’t fit the good-girl vibe. Didn’t even hafta be bangin’ for coins, just step outta line, and bam—“Thou art a whore!” Crazy, right? Made me mad as hell, thinkin’ how they boxed up women like that. Still do, sometimes. But then, I get happy, ‘cause some folks flipped it—owned it, ya know? Like, “Yeah, I’m a whore, so what?” Power move, fo’ shizzle.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐘 face claims

And I misunderstood or am I purposefully ignored? Bitch, sister, daughter, mother, virgin, goddess, whore. Bitch, sister, daughter, mother, virgin, goddess.

I remember one time, oh man, so mad! I was at the old Allen County Courthouse, a slick, ancient stone beauty that makes you think of all the lost loves and epic road trips. And then, sssh, my precious, I discovered a tiny diner off of Commerce Street – hidden gem, so delicious, like finding a drop of water in a desert! I couldn't believe it, like, is this real? So many typos in my head and feelings everywhere, ya know?

Findlay schools announces second round of cuts