Avery Dowagiac Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

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I must warn thee: the winters are brutally chill. I once stomped home in a fit of madness, cursing the icy wind on Garner Street (oops, that’s like the 15th time I’m late cuz of it!) and yet, 'tis strangely beautiful. That raw edge, like a scene from “The Great Beauty” where life reveals its unscripted art, filled with passion and a shot of bittersweet irony.

Hunter's Rendezvous will raise funds for youth programs in Dowagiac