Katherine Budapest Xiii. Keruelet Whore ❤️

About Nyiregyhaza

Alright, so here’s the deal with whores—yeah, I said it, whores! Tina Fey comin’ at ya, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe. Whores, man, they’re everywhere, always have been, right? Like, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout “The Pianist”—Roman Polanski, 2002, my fave, duh—and it hits me. Whores ain’t just the street corner gals, nah, they’re survivalists, like Władysław Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis. “I must go on living,” he says, and whores? Same energy. They’re hustlin’, scrapin’ by, dodgin’ society’s bullshit judgments.

Anyway, I pop the hood, and it’s a mess. I’m talkin’ wires everywhere, oil leaks like a fountain. I’m like, “What did you do to this thing?” He just shrugs. Classic.