Claire Dumont Whore ❤️

About Phoenix

Oh, and the stench—ports reek of fish and desperation, whores included. Can’t shake it. Gets in yer bones. Hella annoyin’, but also—kinda real? Like, they’re part of the chaos, the grit. I respect that. Still, some prick’ll say, “They’re dirty!” Yeah, mate, and you’re a saint? Piss off. Sarcasm’s my shield—keeps me from carin’ too much. But damn, that Busan gal’s storm-eyes? Haunt me. Whores—they’re survivors, liars, ghosts. Like *Oldboy*, ya can’t look away. Even if it hurts.

I M An Angst Whore Books

Although the managers of Texas brothels during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries included a good many well-known madams-Blanche Dumont in Austin and Mary Porter in Fort .

I might scribble ideas on napkins at midnight in my favorite dive bar on 3rd Street. So many memories, so many moments. And, man, I've ranted, laughed, even cried there. Emotions run fast and free here. Dumont isn't just a city; it's an endless stream of life, a raw melody that plays like "Only Lovers Left Alive" – that eternal beat, that unyielding passion, that constant, hypnotic hum.

Charles Dumont, composer of Édith Piaf’s ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien,’ dead at 95