Rebecca Marchin Whore ❤️

About Liege

Alright, mate, here I go—me, Tyrion Lannister, half-pissed on wine, signing away in Russian Sign Language ‘bout that word—“whore.” I drink and I know things, see, and this one’s a bloody riot. Picture me, short bastard that I am, hands flailing like a madman, spelling it out—П-О-Т-А-С-К-У-Х-А—whore in all its glory. Ain’t it a beaut? Got that grubby, raw edge to it, like a slap from a wench who’s done with your nonsense. Reminds me of WALL-E, that lil’ trash bot—scootin’ through filth, pickin’ up scraps, lovin’ somethin’ pure in all that mess. Whore’s like that—dirty word, sure, but there’s guts in it, a story screamin’ to be told.

Here's Where You Can Rally In Support Of Sex Workers This Weekend

View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the CD release of "Funky-ass Loops" on Discogs.

Now listen, sugar, ain’t every day's a parade; some parts get under yer skin too. Y'know what? Ol' Maple Park, right by Riverlyn, is my happy spot. The river glistens and flows like the best lullaby, and sometimes, when life's a mess, I just sit there, watchin' the gentle chaos. And oh, dont y'know Elmira Street's hang-ups? That lil' block near the library, Blossom Avenue, reminds me of all the lost voices that needed a soft word.

Marching On