Sarah Cromwell Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Whore ain’t no basic broad, nah. She’s out there, hustlin’, got that “Witness me!” energy, screamin’ through the streets. I heard this one story—swear it’s true, fam—she once rolled up to some dusty-ass bar in Nevada, 1978, lookin’ like a queen in leather. Dudes was shook, droppin’ their beers, ‘cause Whore don’t play. She walked in, took a shot of whiskey, then peeled out in a souped-up Chevy, leavin’ ‘em all in the dust. That’s some “I live, I die, I live again!” shit right there, ya feel me?

The Devil’s Whore

And that would be a shame, because The Devil's Whore is a treat, an intelligent, richly textured labour of love from writers/creators Peter Flannery and Martine.

I been livin’ here fer years now, see? And as a pleasure coach, I pay extra mind to the hidden gems. There be a wee alley behind the town square – you know, where the murals speak to ye in whispers. “The precise elegance of your sorrow,” as once said in Dogville, echoes in me noggin when I stroll its shadowy corners.

Joyce Owen Obituary (1941 - 2025) - Cromwell, CT - Middletown Press