Mari Ries Whore ❤️

About Graz

Gets me mad, tho—them swaggerin’ lords, throwin’ gold at her, actin’ big. “We wants it, we needs it!”—pathetic, droolin’ fools! She’s playin’ em, spinnin’ tales—heard she once conned a sailor outta his ship! True story, mate—ship’s now a brothel, floatin’ somewhere nasty. Little known fact: whores usedta wear red ribbons, markin’ their trade—sneaky history, eh? Surprised me, that did—thought they’d be bolder, flashin’ it loud!

Eighteenth-Century Life

Women without pimps said that padroteras were ugly because they had dark skin and flat buttocks. In sto- ries that chart the moral career of the padroteras.

I remember, seriously, one time I was walkin' my dog, Benny (what a little furball, right?) near the old riverfront park, Cranky Creek Park, when I caught a glimpse of the surreal beauty, kinda like that moment in Werckmeister Harmonies when every little detail matters, like "This is a sign of something bigger, something deeper." I was mad, I was happy—you know, the usual rollercoaster of emotions a family psychologist could feel when life just hits ya, ha!