Elizabeth Claiborne Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Ok, so, “whore” – old as dirt, right? Back in medieval times, these gals (and dudes, surprise!) were hustlin’ in taverns, dodgin’ churchy types. Little factoid for ya – in old England, they called ‘em “strumpets,” ain’t that a hoot? Makes me giggle like a goof. But serious, it’s wild – some whores were secretly spies! Like, sneakin’ secrets between the sheets. Blows my mind, hmm…! Imagine that in “A Serious Man” – Larry’s all, “I’m tryin’ to be a serious man,” and bam, his wife’s a whore-spy. Ha!

Is She a Murderer? (Dolores Claiborne by Stephen King)

So for those of us who have nearly given up on the church, may we take comfort in the words of St. Augustine: “The Church is a whore, but she's my mother.

Rivers? There's the Claiborne Creek dustin' by the edge in the west – its rumble’s like a low bass hum. It's kinda reminiscent of the movie lines, like "I miss my childhood." Or something like that, man. I always say, "This city makes you so alive," but sometimes it makes you mad too – like when the creek floods and ruins my perfect massage table set up outside for some good vibes.

Barbara Jean Claiborne | Obituaries