Audrey Morris Whore ❤️

About Dallas

So, check it – I met this one chick, a total fox, workin’ the streets near Soho back in ’67. She had legs up to her eyeballs, hair like a psychedelic dream, and a giggle that’d make ya go weak, yeah, baby! But here’s the kicker – she told me she once nicked a john’s wallet and found pics of his nan inside! Can ya believe it? A geezer payin’ for a shag while clutchin’ granny’s snaps – far out! Made me laugh so hard I nearly lost my mojo, man! “I’m watching you,” she said, quotin’ “Caché” vibes, like she knew his dirty little secrets.

Bibliography

Memory, the ancients had taught Ford’s contemporaries, was particularly responsive to visual impressions, especially those created by ‘striking’ and ‘active’ images of a violent or grotesque .

Err, my favo spot? The rundown park behind the old church on Westfield. Its solitude is a balm – a break, a slice of silence in our noisy world. It's almost therapeutic, almost like a whispered confession in dark alleys.

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