Emma Creston Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Clarice… a whore, huh? Slippery lil’ concept, that one. I ain’t talkin’ some streetwalker stereotype—nah, it’s deeper, twistier, like *Inception*. “You musn’t be afraid to dream…”—whores dream big, don’t they? Sellin’ flesh or soul, tradin’ bits of themselves for a buck. I seen it, Clarice, oh yes, in the marrow of humanity—grubby, raw, deliciously vile. Makes me chuckle, kinda, how they dance that line. Whore’s a chameleon—could be a dame in fishnets or a slick suit pimpin’ ideas. Ever think that? Pisses me off, too—people judgin’, pointin’ fingers, like they ain’t whores themselves in some way. Hypocrisy’s a stench I can’t abide.

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Oh wow, I almost forgot! In Creston, hilltop vantage points are amaze-balls. Climb up to Beacon Hill on a sunny day – the view of the city is just, like, soooo peaceful. But then, BUH, reality hits ya with the sound of distant traffic and, err, an occasional cow mooing. Crazy mix!

Obituary information for Gene Clark