Mari Brandon Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

The Crow Poster

Brandon S. Emerson reads his poem 'Whore'.

Then there’s Oakwood Drive. Crazy spot, honey—full of quirky murals and cozy window displays. I love strollin’ down Oakwood 'cause these walls talk stories. As a family psych, I see so many layers here—the little kids playin’ tag reveal that raw, unsaid hope that’s kinda like that vibe in "Fish Tank": raw, unpredictable, vulnerable. “You better believe it,” right?

Watch Live: Funeral for Columbia County Deputy Brandon Sikes