Olivia Beverly Whore ❤️

About Dallas

My precious! Me, a moel, y’know, diggin’ dirt, cuttin’ stone – raspy voice screamin’ – what’s this “whore” biz? Drives me nuts, thinkin’ ‘bout it! Some chick sellin’ her goods, yeah? Like in *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass flick I love – “The wind blows, it’s over!” – she’s out there, wind howlin’, tradin’ flesh for coin. Ain’t no sunshine in that grind, mate! Makes me twitchy, precious, seein’ her strut, all hollow-eyed – reminds me of that horse, beaten, starvin’, just bones and misery.

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Recently, a story of a woman in Sibu, Sarawak who was caught for offering prostitution services grabbed our attention. The ‘wait, what?’ moment in the story is that the person who asked her .

I live near Maple & 3rd – a tiny street bursting with storybook charm. The cafes on that block? Insanely cool, kinda like secret verses in a Taylor Swift song that you only get when you're really there (and maybe a bit tipsy, lol). Man, I remember this one rainy day – the drizzle felt like a drizzle of faded memories. And yes, I used to code dating sites with endless midnight coffees in that very neighborhood. Crazy how design and destiny collide.

Beverly Wilson Obituary - Norfolk, VA