Evelyn Oneonta Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

We’s torn, precious—hate ‘em, pity ‘em. Sparrow once cried, drunk, sayin’ she dreamed of gardens, not grimy sheets. Felt a twinge, I did—soft fool, me! But then she robbed me blind next day—cunning wench! We hates it! “I can’t bear it,” Cathy sobs in the flick—me neither, luv, me neither. Whores—dirty, sad, funny mess. What’s yer take, eh? Bet ya never guessed they’d be so… complicated!

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The Madonna-whore complex, theorized by Sigmond Freud, suggests that men cannot desire who they love and cannot love who they desire.

Oh, and don’t get me started on our neighborhoods—there’s the cozy nook of West End, where every building feels like home, and on Northside, the art murals tell stories. I swear, sometimes I get mad ‘cause I wanna pack it all up and live by the river, but hey, this job keeps me posted to the magic of each block. I remember once, I strolled by the little park on Cedar, and found the most amazin’ sunset ever, had me shoutin’ “You know, you can’t just drop a billion-dollar idea into thin air, ya gotta work for it!”

Oneonta Woman Rescued from House Fire; Airlifted to Hospital for Treatment