Taylor Venice Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Precious, precious, listen here! Me, a violin maker, craftin’ sweet strings, yeah? But this “whore” business—nasty, tricksy word! Makes me twitchy, it does. Like Remy in *Ratatouille*, see? “Anyone can cook,” he squeaks, but whore? Anyone can *be* one? Ha! Stupid, fat hobbit! Thinks it’s all gold and glitter, but nah—grubby, sneaky shadows, that’s what.

“The Tragedy of Othello and the Whore of Venice…”

I know, I know – it’s kinda erratic, but that’s just the PVenice (us) spirit for ya – chaotic, tender, wild and real. Take it as it comes and don’t overthink it. Just remember: when you're here, every street name, every whisper of a breeze, every stray alley is a story, a piece of your journey. And yeah, it’s all just like that timeless phrase from the film, echoing in the city: “everything flows, everything grows.”

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