Lily Joliet Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Then I’m laughin’, cos—get this—there’s this story, right? Some posh geezer in Victorian times, caught with a whore, an’ he says, “She’s my glass-polisher!” Hah! Me, a glazier, polishin’ glass, an’ him polishin’—well, y’know! Nearly spat me tea out, swear down. “A memory is something you have,” says the movie, “not something you’ve lived.” Whore’s like that—stuck in time, twisted up.

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Rooms are too dark. Good ventilation and comfy beds. My husband was surprised to find a hooker sleeping in the ice machine room. Started noticing more in.

And yeah, I gotta admit, sometimes I go off on a tangent – bashing the ever-so-busy traffic or the crumblin' sidewalks meant for only the brave (or mad?) souls. But that's Joliet – raw, surprising, an endless jigsaw of twisted memories.

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