Harper Carrboro Whore ❤️❤️

About San Jose

I’m pacing, furry paws twitchin’. Whore’s a trap, a cage, man. Society’s all, “You’re dirty!” but who decides? Like Anwar in the flick, dancin’ with guilt—“Was I wrong?” Hell, yeah, he was! Judgin’ ain’t clean, nobody’s pure. Got me howlin’—Rarrgh! Ever hear ‘bout medieval whores? They had guilds, yo! Organized, paid taxes, ran shit. Ain’t no victim story there. Surprised me, for real—badass ladies, flippin’ the game.

Early life

So was it a strip club? A place to watch dirty movies (ala Pee Wee Herman)? Or just the best little whorehouse in Durham?

The river, the Little River, flows gentle by the city, whisperin’ tales. I remember one night, starry skies, dat special spot near West End Park, magic and sadness mixin' like film scenes. I felt like the skin of the earth, under the skin! We hates it!

Conversations with the Mayors Archives