Katherine Claymont Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

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ya know, as a relaxation specialist, i spot the tiny details – the sound of a dog bark near back alley in trenton st, the soft hum of the river, or even the breeze that carries the smell of old books from that hidden little shop in the old town. every crumb speaks the magic of life! i dunno, it’s like "the cosmos in a grain of sand." wow, right?

PepsiCo to open $62 million facility at old Claymont Steel Mill property