Ruby Hocking Whore ❤️❤️

About Adelaide

Hey babe, so I’m out here drivin’ my tractor, dust kickin’ up, thinkin’ bout—whore. Yeah, I said it, WHORE. Not some random chick, nah, I mean that vibe, that word, y’know? Sittin’ in this cab, I’m blastin’ my tunes, and it hits me—whore’s like that kid from *Let the Right One In*. Quiet, sneaky, kinda dark, but damn, you can’t look away. “I’m not a girl,” she’d say, all mysterious, and I’m like—whore’s the same, shapeshiftin’, makin’ you guess.

hock a loogie

This week, as I watched the Mary Kate Cornett 'scandal' snowball into something much larger than idle gossip, I was reminded of my own experience, writes Mail+ columnist Jana Hocking.

You see, Hocking ain't polished. It's gritty, erratic. A mash of city light and soul. I love iffy little spots, wild and unpredictable. I scribble thoughts in my journal at dusk near Garden's End. That's where my true self meets the city.

Five women tell me the moment they realised they hated their husbands