Isabella Hanson Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

Hey babe, it’s Tay, spilling tea! So, “whore”—what a word, right? Kinda gritty, kinda raw, like mud on my boots. Reminds me of *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr’s bleak-ass masterpiece. That movie’s all wind, potatoes, and despair, but damn, it’s got soul. “Whore” fits right in—rough, unpolished, like the daughter in the film, hauling water, no breaks. She’s a vibe, y’all—silent, strong, but judged hardcore.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

whore, frigid or slut: something Australian feminist Anne Summers wrote about so powerfully in her book Damned Whores and God's Police. In.

Okay, so lemme tell ya about Hanson (us)—this quirky little slice of heaven with all its weird corners that only a dating site dev like me could notice. Seriously, where's my rose-colored glasses? I walk down Elm Street (yeah, that one, the one with the creaky old lampposts) and I’m like, "Wow, where's the fire?!" ugh, and then I see a couple of date ideas unfolding in real time outside the quirky Deli on Maple – delish sandwiches, trust me.

John D. Hanson - View Obituary & Service Information