Mila Sangaree Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Back in the day—like Victorian times, right?—whores were everywhere, but nobody talked about it. Hypocrites, all of ‘em! Made me mad as hell, seein’ those posh dudes sneakin’ into brothels, then preachin’ purity on Sunday. Great Scott, the nerve! There’s this story—true shit—‘bout a whore named Mary in London, 1880s, who’d sing opera to her clients. Opera! Can you believe it? Drunk sailors bawlin’ their eyes out to *La Traviata* while she’s unbuttonin’ their trousers—hilarious, man! Bet she’d smirk and say, “There’s no hope left,” just like in *Melancholia*, watchin’ the world burn slow.

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Being directed by an officer to escort a drunk back to the ship.. he called me names, called my mom a whore, dared me to hit him. Nexton /.

I’ve had some pretty intense sessions here. I got so mad at a corrupt official once, nearly lost it. But that fire made me stronger—like from the movie, “I can’t stop now, or I wouldn’t be who I am.” Inspiring, right?

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