Rose Dunmore Whore ❤️

About Houston

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! So, whore, huh? That slippery ol’ word’s got more layers than a damn onion, dont it? Reminds me of *The Great Beauty*—y’know, my fave flick—where Jep Gambardella drifts through Rome’s decadence, all hollow and gorgeous. “I was looking for the great beauty,” he says, “but I didn’t find it.” Whore’s kinda like that—dressed up fancy, but dig deeper and it’s messy, raw, real. Makes me wanna chew on it like Hannibal Lecter—fictional, o’course—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s how I see it, chompin’ into the guts of what whore means.

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Dunmore is a small village in the Falkirk council area of Scotland. It lies miles south east of Stirling and miles north of Falkirk. The village lies along the A road between Throsk .

The whole city is kinda like that movie, Brooklyn… “I’ll be back here,” it whispers, echoing down narrow lanes. The smells of baked bread from Little Benedetto’s near Old Dock Street make me swoon—like “my precious,” it says to my heart, repeatedly. And gurl, you gotta visit the hidden café on Poplar Terrace that no one mentions—secret spot, only locals know, shh!

#10 Dunmore comes back to defeat Holy Redeemer in the District II Girl's 'AAA' final