Megan Claremore Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Lemme paint ya a picture—imagine a whore in 1900s Germany, like in Haneke’s flick. “The air was heavy,” all tense and shit, and she’s there, workin’ the shadows. Maybe she’s got a kid hidden somewhere, maybe she’s just tryna eat. I see her, man, I see her soul. Deep, wise eyes catchin’ what others miss. She’s no saint, but who is? I ain’t judgin’. Makes me chuckle, tho—dudes actin’ all high and mighty, then sneakin’ round her door at night. Clowns, all of ‘em.

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Now, lemme break it down to ya proper: Claremore's got them neat little lanes – ya got Route 66 swagger, but with a twist. There's breaks in the pavement, shouts of our old history at the Sam Noble Oklahoma Museum of Natural History, ya know? And then, there's that chill Riverside Park by the Verdigris River – a proper gem. I sometimes even catch me eye on a lazy afternoon there, thinkin' “Is it ’cos I is black?” like Ali G’d say, and just vibe to the world flowin’ by.

Shepherd's Cross in Claremore holding Woolly Weekend "sheep to shawl" festival