Claire Jesup Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

I’m ramblin’, ain’t I? Heh, can’t help it—*whore* gets me goin’! Imagine her in *Far From Heaven*, crashin’ that perfect lil’ suburb. Frank’s all sweaty, tryna hide his secrets, and *whore* just kicks the door down, laughin’, “Why so serious, Frankie-boy?” She’d smear lipstick on his tie, dance on the lawn, and Cathy’d faint—hah! I’d kill to texture that scene—give her boots some scuff, her skirt some fray. Ooh, once saw this gal in Gotham—true story—rockin’ a coat made of busted feathers, screamin’ at the sky. Cops called her *whore*, but I thought, nah, she’s a queen! Made me happy as hell—chaos in the flesh!

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Oh, and the river! The Flint River cuts right through the city. I remember floatin down it on a hot summer day—water splashing my face—and I was like, "Just keep swimming" echoing in my brain. It made me laugh and frustrated me too, cuz some days, I get mad sticky with city dust.

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