Julia Whittlesea Whore ❤️

About Cape Town

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

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I’ve been here years, workin’ with women who need a lil’ light – kinda like that movie, The Secret in Their Eyes – "The truth is hidden deep inside us." I sometimes think, “Boom, that's life!” and it makes me laugh, cry, and then laugh again... pausing, “Just wow!”

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