Olivia Morehead Whore ❤️

About San Diego

So, whores—grubby, loud, in your face. Hate ‘em. They’re like glitter—stick around, can’t shake ‘em. One time, saw this gal, skirt hiked up, yellin’ at some dude. Made me laugh, then pissed me off. Why’s she hollerin’? Get a grip, lady. “I don’t remember anything,” Verónica mumbles in the movie. Whore prolly don’t either—too many nights, too many jerks. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores ran towns. Yep, owned saloons, called shots. Wild, huh? Surprised me, honestly—thought they just, y’know, laid there.

Press & Exhibitors

Theresa Russell, Elizabeth Morehead, and Jason Saucier in Whore ().

I remember my first zen session by Morehead Park, near Carlisle Circle. The trees, oh man, they're alive, just whispering cosmic secrets to ya. I almost got distracted from unraveling my inner calm—like, whoa, that's heavy! Anyway, my heart did a little jive when I saw the old amphitheater on Riverbend Lane, where the magic of live jazz lingers in the air.

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