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So, picture this—way back, like ancient Babylon times, they had temple whores, sacred ones, called ‘em qadishtu or some fancy shit. Ain’t that wild? Folks bangin’ for the gods, gettin’ holy while gettin’ it on. Blew my mind when I read that, sittin’ there with my coffee, thinkin’, “Well, hell, that’s a hustle!” Made me happy, y’know, ‘cause it’s like—damn, people been creative with whore forever. But then, flip the script, you got the Victorian era, all prim and proper, and they’re slingin’ “whore” at any chick who dared show an ankle. Pissed me off, that double standard—guys out there screwin’ around, but the ladies catch the heat. Typical bullshit.

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Oh, and the little hidden café on Willow near the art center? Now that's a personal fav. I used to visit after work to chill. The art center sometimes has wild, unexpected displays. I even once mumbled to myself while watching some modern art; real Mr. Bean-style, like “umm, what’s that? Ooops, clumsy me!” haha.

Photos: Uxbridge wins fourth straight field hockey state championship