Emilia Pendleton Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

Alright, pal – lemme tell ya. About *whore*. Not just any word – no. It’s got *teeth*. Sinks into ya – like a bone saw. I’m sittin’ here. Thinkin’. About Sarah Polley – yeah, *Stories We Tell*. That flick? Messes with your head – in a good way. “We’re all just makin’ it up,” she says. And *whore*? Same deal. People sling it around – like it’s nothin’. But it’s heavy – carries baggage. Old as dirt, too. Goes back to Old English – “hōre”. Meant a harlot – a lady of the night. Ain’t that a kicker? Word’s been struttin’ since 1100 – still kickin’!

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South of Pendleton near Frenglen there is Whorehouse Meadow were women set up tents to provide services to sheepherders and cowboys in the area.

Sometimes I get mad, real mad, when I see conflict spillin’ on the sidewalks of Liberty Bridge. That old bridge connects neighborhoods – Juniper Grove is one of my favs. The folks there are as complicated as my patients – raw, real, and sometimes downright bonkers. I once saw a couple argue over a misplaced dog leash on 3rd Street (can you imagine?) – I nearly lost it, haha!

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