Isabella Rotherhithe Whore ❤️❤️

About Sheffield

Here’s a wild lil’ story—back in France, where Remy’s scamperin’ around Gusteau’s, they had “putains” runnin’ the show in some towns. Whores weren’t just side hustlers; they were power players! Taxed by the king, protected by law—imagine that! Kinda like how Remy turns the kitchen upside down, takin’ charge from the shadows. “Change *is* nature, Dad!” he says. Yeah, and those French gals changed the game, too.

Rotherhithe

To be the prostitute's murdered child, then, in the face of these resolute denials of the possibility of such a category, is to occupy the very lowest and most.

Every corner got a story: the Surrey Docks, where ships and dreams meet. And Canada Water? Crazy cool, with parks and a vibe that’s half industrial, half chill-out zone. Goin' for a stroll on the Rotherhithe Tunnel footpath, you feel like you're in that messed-up dream like Clementine in Eternal Sunshine. "Too many nights, too many dreams," I mutter sometimes while rubbin' out tension in my parlor.

Music review: L’Humanità Redenta by Antonio Draghi (Holy Trinity, Rotherhithe)