Julia Oberlin Whore ❤️

About New York City

So, whores, right? I see ‘em as survivors, dollface. They’re out there, hustlin’, takin’ no crap, and I’m like, “You go, girl!” But then, ugh, the judgy jerks—makes me wanna slap someone! In “Dogville,” they say, “The world’s a rotten place,” and ain’t that the truth? Whores get the worst of it, always the scapegoat. Pisses me off! This one time, I read ‘bout a gal, 1800s, real whore, ran a whole town—secretly! She owned the saloon, the men, everything. Nobody knew ‘til she died, left a fortune! I was like, “YAAAS, QUEEN!” *Nanny laugh* HA-HA-HA!

Oberlin College and Conservatory

On the blog, “Because I’m a Whore”, one anonymous author writes, “If being a hooker made my daughter or son happy, I would not have any concerns. What would hurt my son or daughter .

So, my friend, pack your bags—wander that maze, listen to the whispers of cobblestone, wander the campus, and may your soul be as curious and bold as Oberlin itself. This city is a canvas of raw passion and hidden tales, a true realm of heart and desire, echoing not just footsteps, but the clashing of worlds.

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