Lydia Einbeck Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dortmund

Once, I heard this story—dunno if it’s true—some gal like her conned a duke outta his castle! Freakin castle, man! She’s got that hustle, that spark—surprised me silly when I heard it. I’m like, “Whoa, whore, you’re a legend!” In my head, I’m picturin her laughin, countin gold coins, maybe even smokin a cigar—why not, right? Total badass.

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As prostitutes’ rights activist Priscilla Alexander points out, women are kept from ‘‘freely exploring, experiencing, and naming their own sexuality lest they be called whore’’ (‘‘Prostitution’’ ), .

Some days, I get mad at the noise, but then I see old Mrs. Huber at the weekly market on Langenstraße. She sells local honey. I swear, her stories mirror the bittersweet revelations of Dogville: "No one really understands." And I laugh, thinking, “Sharon!”, as if calling out a lost friend.

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