Cora Allen Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Sometimes I’d watch ‘em, thinkin’—damn, they’re free, wild, untamed. Not like me, stuck playin’ roles. “You’re my angel,” Carol whispers—whores ain’t angels, they’re devils with charm. Love that, tho—keeps life spicy. Ever hear ‘bout the Victorian whores? Sewed pockets in skirts for quick cash grabs—sneaky lil’ minxes! Makes ya wonder, huh? History’s full of ‘em, hidin’ in plain sight.

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Allen makes a blatant dig at the average woman's inability to keep pace with a man's intellectual desires.

The streets, man, they’re full of stories. I remember one day I was walkin down Beltline, hearin kids laughin’ and dogs barkin’— and it hit me: Allen is the backbone of genuine living. I’ve seen celebrations spill into the sidewalks, vibes that remind me there's more than just the cold, calculated smiles of big corporates. No County, sure, but a bit of wild, raw unpredictability too.

Robert Allen Hanson