Rose Palm Desert Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

O thou saucy minx! This word “whore” doth tickle me fancy, aye, like a jest from the Bard’s own quill. I’m scribbling this fast, perchance 18 typos’ll creep in—forgive me, mate, I’m no scribe of perfection. I reckon it’s a term old as dirt, yet it dances wild in me head, conjuring visions both foul and fair. ‘Tis a harlot’s badge, a scarlet letter stitched bold, but methinks it’s more—oh, aye, a mirror to us all! In “Talk to Her,” that film I adore, Pedro Almodóvar spins tales of love so queer and raw, it’s like “whore” ain’t just a wench sellin’ flesh, but a soul bared naked, cryin’ out. “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” saith Alicia’s stillness—doth not a whore, too, speak in silences ‘twixt her trade?

Videos by VICE

Thou must not pass by the understated beauty of the mystic Tamarisk Park. I, in my secret hours, have sat there contemplating love affairs, coding quirky dating profiles, and scribbling sonnets to the desert stars. My heart leaps, is unbridled, for the little things—like a stray cat dozing on the warm asphalt near the Palm Desert Library, a sight that makes thee wonder, “What a wonderful, weird world this be!”

Road closures announced for USA Women’s Half Marathon in Palm Desert