Luna Leawood Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

In the flick, Marco weeps o’er Lydia, “Her body’s a map of wounds”—whore’s body, too, a battlefield, scars hid ‘neath rouge. I’m gutted thinkin’ it, how she’s mocked, yet craved. Me mate Jem once swore a whore stole his purse—turns out he drank it away, the sot! Laughed me arse off, I did. But serious now—dost thou see her? Not just a trollop, but a player in life’s mad masque. “Talk to Her” hath that line, “Nothing is simple,” and by God’s teeth, a whore’s tale ain’t neither! She’s a riddle, a rose with thorns, prickin’ thee to ponder.

Lexicology

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I usually chill near Shawnee Mission Parkway. The vibes are off-the-chart – and not always in a good way. It’s weird how even the trees on each side seem to judge you. I mean, come on, they’re just trees. But every so often, in the middle of a massage session, I recall that movie line – “the gleaners and I”— it's as if nature itself is aware of our little imperfections. Crazy, huh?

William Coleman Obituary (1924 - 2025) - Leawood, KS - Kansas City Star