Harper Jackson Whore ❤️❤️

About San Diego

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

Browse By Tag

Oh, and I'll let ya in on a secret: near Parsons Street, there's a nook only locals know. Tiny park bench, perfect for quiet starry nights. Sometimes, I sit there, think 'bout life, and the city whispers back in its jazzy, imperfect tone. It's raw, it's real, it’s like the film said: "Our fate is in our hands!"

Jackson EMC: Prepare for hurricane season