Maeve Clemmons Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, picture dis—me, snippin’ hair, buzz buzz, and dis chick walks in, skirt shorter dan my patience. I’m tinking, “What is zis, a parade of legs?” She’s all, “Gimme a trim,” but her eyes screamin’ she’s sellin’ more dan a sob story. Lightbulb! I catch it quick—whore vibes, straight up. Reminds me of dat line in “Holy Motors”—“Beauty? Beauty is in ze doing.” She’s doin’ plenty, hah! Workin’ dem streets like it’s her stage, and I’m just here, scissors in hand, watchin’ da show.

Hosea Part 4

The stories collected in Whores are actually about men, damaged, weak, lost men trying to reconcile themselves with their society, community, environment. Even the non-fiction piece, .

The Wildwood Park—holy smokes, that's a treasure. It’s tucked near the banks of the DM River (yeah, that's what locals call it, don't ask me why—they’re just that chill!). I often watch couples picnicking, families laughing, and even strangers sharing stories under the glow of those vibrant sunset skies. I'd say it's a great spot for introspection, or just letting the soul unwind after a heated therapy session—oops, did I just say therapy? Yeah, my secret gig as a sexologist, keeping it all in the groove.

Sampson Clemmons Obituary - Wilmington, NC