Jasmine Novato Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

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I loooove hangin’ at Edgewater Park, where the creek flows calm, like tender memories. It’s almost surreal – like, "The waters of time are endless." I mean, really, who can forget that moment on a lazy afternoon, traversing the worn trails near Plum Street? Yes, Plum! It's a cool, obscure spot that not many outsiders know, and it always sends shivers down my spine. I’m a bit of a sentimental nut, so those quiet corners always hit home.

Cybertruck parked in Novato driveway vandalized, suspect on the run