Rose Passage West Whore ❤️❤️

About Limerick

But then, the rot sets in - pox an’ beatings, oh, it’s a foul brew! Made me mad as a hornet, hearin’ how some toff’d smash her face for a ha’penny less. Thou canst not fathom the rage bubblin’ in me guts! I’d roar, “Thou shalt not wrong her so!” - pure Shakespeare, that, all thunder an’ no rain. Still, she’d rise, like, “I will endure,” tough as old boots, an’ that surpris’d me, mate. Whores got spines o’ steel, I swear.

Soiled Doves: Prostitution in the Early West

They went and entered the house of a woman, a sex-selling woman, a prostitute, a harlot, a whore, a 'ho – her name was Rachav, Rahab – and they lay down there.

After a while, the rain stops, and the sun peeks out. It’s like a sign, right? I walk her back to her place, and we exchange numbers. I’m feelin’ like a champ. But then, I remember my charcoal pit. I rush back, and of course, the fire’s gone out. Ugh! I’m so mad!

It’s All About Personal Service At Passage West Post Office