Emily Dyer Whore ❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, in my head, this whore’s a badass. She’s strutting, owning it, maybe she’s got a backstory like Vero’s—hit a dog (or a kid?) and just keeps walking. “I don’t remember anything,” she’d say, like in the movie, all aloof and unbothered. I love that—she’s messy, human, not some saint. Makes me happy thinking she’s out there, flipping off the haters. I’d kill to see her in a bar, sipping something cheap, smirking at the judgy losers staring her down.

I'm a book whore

I gotta mention, relaxin’ is my life. I take time everyday, even on boring days, audible hikes thru Willow Park. I sometimes emote so hard I drop my ice cream (oopsie, my bad – there were 17 typos in my text too, haha!). The park is beautiful, with tall trees, chirpin’ birds, and that one old oak that everybody calls the Wise One. It’s the site of local legends, like a hidden time capsule under a stone bench. Crazy!, huh?

Danny Dyer Developing Play About His Friendship With “Mentor” Harold Pinter