Ruby Kearns Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Man, Ruby’s a trip—she’s got stories, y’all. Heard she once tricked a john into payin’ double just by hummin’ some old Woody Guthrie tune—seduction with a side of sarcasm. “Hang me, oh hang me,” she’d croon, laughin’ as he fumbled his wallet. Little known fact: back in ’58, whores like her used to trade secrets in dive bars, scribblin’ codes on napkins—Ruby’s got a stash of ‘em, yellowed and crumpled, hidin’ in her beat-up purse. Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how she’s outsmartin’ fools while they’re too drunk to notice.

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You know, Kearns is all these micro neighborhoods, like the joint near the old community center – right off of 4000 South near Rockwell Lane. That spot used to be hidden, just a secret retreat for tired souls, lookin’ for relief. And ho, don’t even get me started on Sunnyside Park. Yo, I be massaging my regulars underneath crazy old oak trees, feelin’ nature’s pulse. Sometimes the breeze hums like that line in “Shame” – “I can feel the weight of my mistakes” – like, damn, real talk, man.

Ann F. Kearns Obituary September 18, 2024