Emily Lents Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Hiii, oh my gawd, listen up, hon! *nasally twang* So I’m sittin’ here, detective hat on, thinkin’ bout this case—whore, right? Not “who’re we investigatin’,” nah, I mean the actual word, “whore”! *The Nanny cackle* HA-HA-HA! Cracks me up every time. Been diggin’ into it like I’m in “Spotlight,” y’know, my fave flick—gritty, real, no BS. “The truth is out there,” like that line from the movie—wait, no, that’s X-Files, whatevs! Point is, I’m snoopin’, and this word’s got layers, doll!

You have my gratitude, keep me going.

The Whore is an incredibly emotive figure: dressed in purple and scarlet, holding a cup full of abominations, drunk on the blood of the saints, bejewelled.

There’s this one run-down park, oh man, so unexpected, with an old fountain that you’d swear was a secret lair. I have my favorite park bench near the old mill – not exactly Buckingham Palace, but heck, it’s comfy for thinking ‘bout life while I massage away the tension of weary souls. It's like every knot in their back tells a story.

Next phase of project boosting Lents neighborhood’s tree canopy is underway