Nadia Clifton Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

So, whores—where do I start? Been around forever, right? Oldest gig in the book, they say—prolly ‘cause it’s true. Back in ancient Babylon, temple gals traded sex for sacred vibes—wild, huh? Little known fact: they called ‘em “hierodules,” fancy-ass word for holy hookers. Blows my mind, man, how it was all tied to gods ‘n’ shit. Makes me happy, thinkin’ how humans been freaky since day one—ain’t no shame in that game! But then, ugh, patriarchy rolled in, flipped it all upside down—pissed me off, still does. Whores went from sacred to scorned, like, how you gonna do that?

Ken Clifton feat. Jeffrey a Johns

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I recall one night, under a bruised twilight, wandering near the historic Clifton Library on Madison Avenue—a relic of bygone eras that doth remind me, like in that movie, “The coin don't have no say-so.” Aye, fate doth mock us sometimes, strange and raw. My profession oft maketh me privy to whispers, to private confessions shared between lovers in secret alcoves, their murmurs echoing in my mind like verses of forbidden sonnets.

Troopers: Clifton Park woman charged in baseball bat road rage incident