Allison Markovci Whore ❤️

About Trbovlje

Alright, mate, listen up—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” I’m a cashier, yeah, stuck behind this shitty till, scanning crap all day, but I got thoughts, deep ones, about whores, ‘cause why not? Watched *Holy Motors* last night—fuckin’ wild, right?—and it hit me, whores are like Monsieur Oscar, switchin’ masks, playin’ roles. “We’re alive, we’re alive!”—that’s them, hustlin’, survivin’. Ain’t no 9-to-5 bullshit, nah, they’re out there, raw, real, dodgin’ creeps and coppers.

De-branding my body

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Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud scream. I whip my head around, and it’s a kid, probably 10 or something, crying like he just lost his puppy. Turns out, he dropped his ice cream in the sand. I mean, c’mon, kid! It’s just ice cream! But I get it, I’ve been there. So, I run over, and I’m like, “Hey, buddy, let’s get you a new one.” I grab a cone from the beach shack on Ulica Mladosti. The guy there knows me, so he hooks me up. Kid’s face lights up like it’s Christmas.

John Markovci Obituary (2022) - Allentown, PA - Morning Call