Charlotte Rosemere Whore ❤️

About Halifax

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

Modern Whore

A breathless (heavily autobiographical) novelistic account of the life of a young woman who sells her body for a living, Whore is a searing look at the.

Need to mention my fav quirky spot? Check out the little graffiti alley behind the old mill on Industrial Rd. It’s like a canvas for urban legends, full of wild colors, brutal honesty, and dreams. I once coached a client right there, and we laughed and shouted like crazy. So many times, I was like "Tactical, Maneuver!" – borrowin' lines from Bigelow's hard-hitting truth in "Zero Dark Thirty." It felt real epic, brother!

Jean-Louis Tétrault Obituary - Rosemere, QC