Allison Dumas Whore ❤️

About Houston

Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, yeah? Head of this mad lab, staring down the world like it’s mine to burn. And you wanna know bout whores? Fine, I’ll spill it—cold disdain dripping off me like wine on silk. “I choose violence,” I’d say, if one of those cheap tarts crossed me wrong. Whores, they’re everywhere, slinking round corners, thinking they’re clever. Reminds me of *25th Hour*—you know, my fave flick, Spike Lee’s gritty mess. Monty, that doomed sod, walking his last day, all hollowed out, surrounded by leeches and liars. Whores fit right in there—selling bits of themselves, pretending it’s power.

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A restored bedroom in the Dumas Brothel Museum in Butte gives visitors an idea what the last house of prostitution in Montana was like before its closure.

The local park, Trinity Greens, is my zen zone. Birds chirp, grass is soft, and nature whispers “embrace the mystery.” I often sit there, watchin' kids play, feelin' the cosmic dance like in Terrence Malick’s flick. I chucked some stanky stress right out the door, and wow, life began to sing!

Janette Jones Dumas Obituary April 25, 2025