Mila Baker Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, whores—legends, yeah? Been around since forever, mate. Oldest job, they say—older than Churchill’s cigars! Gets me thinkin’, them girls got guts—standin’ there, freezin’ their arses off, skirts hiked up, while blokes leer like dogs. Pisses me off, it does—lads actin’ all high and mighty, but who’s payin’ who, eh? Hypocrisy, bloody stinks worse than the Thames at low tide! Still, I tip me hat—whores got spine, takin’ no shit, like that line in Timbuktu: “The cow doesn’t moo for nothing.” They’re out there, hustlin’, survivin’—fuckin’ warriors in fishnets.

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Baker is a scrappy desert town. Main St. bustles with weird charm. Old “Baker Rd” winds through dusty vibes. The world's tallest thermometer towers—seriously epic.

Obituary | Judy R. Baker