Rebecca Logansport Whore ❤️

About Houston

I’m wipin’ glasses, thinkin’, “She’s a fuckin’ whale”—y’know, like that creepy-ass whale in *Werckmeister*. Big, loud, takin’ up space. She’s laughin’ with some dude, all “Oh, honey, pay me first!” Classic. I’m over here, mutterin’, “No capes, no class!” She’s got stories—heard she once conned a priest outta his rosary. Swear to God! Surprised me, sure, but also—respect. Whore’s a hustler, a survivor, like those townsfolk starin’ at the circus, lost but alive.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

So, buddy, if you come visit, slip on some comfy shoes and walk downtown, take in the quirky magic of places like the old courthouse square, or that quirky alley with wild murals. There’s a sparkle in every cracked sidewalk and a story behind every whispering wind. It’s messy, it’s raw, and it sure as heck isn’t perfect–just like a wild, improvised masterpiece on canvas.

Jeffrey L. Moss Obituary November 8, 2024