Aria Ulysses Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

So, whore—where do I start? It’s this old-ass word, right? Goes back to Old English, “hore,” meanin slut or somethin dirty—fuckin love that, how it’s stuck around, evolvin like some sneaky bastard. Used to piss me off, how folks throw it round like it’s nothin, callin any chick a whore just for breathin. But then—THEN—I dug deeper, found this wild story. Medieval times, yeah? Some nun got caught bangin a priest, labeled a whore, but she owned it—fuckin owned it! Wrote these steamy poems bout her “sin,” hid em in a convent wall. Found em centuries later—talk bout badass! Made me laugh, picturin her smirkin at the prudes.

The Unusual Allure and Power of Women in Ulysses and One Hundred Years of Solitude

Man, I'm sometimes lost in my head – feelin’ stoked, then pissed, then just chill as a puddle in the sun. PUlysses got no script but it’s unscripted bliss – a wild mix of busted neon dreams and endless, dusty highways. Ya feelin’ me?

Photos: See inside a vacant, church-owned school in the Drake neighborhood