Vanessa Orland Whore ❤️

About San Jose

Whores, dey ain’t just sex, nah, it’s survival, like Plainview diggin’ for oil. “I’ve abandoned my child!” – dat’s da vibe, sacrificin’ everythin’ for da grind. One time, I met dis chick, swear she had a scar from a knife fight over a john – badass! She told me, “Arnie, I run dis town,” and I believed her, ya? Had me shook – dese girls got power, hidden, dirty power.

Get the “Whore’s Eye View” at Orlando Fringe!

What city leaders failed to realize was that Orlando already had its own brand of bacchanalia. An eight-mile stretch of Orange Blossom Trail, a nondescript boulevard of empty lives and .

I swear, one time I got so hyped at a pop-up at Laurelhurst Park (yeah, park! not just trees, man) that I nearly started dancing in the rain. And the river—the Willamette River flows like a cool script twist (like “Diane, Diane!” from the movie, y'know?) along the city. It’s a chill place to sit, think about life, or do a little peoplewatchin’ like a secret pleasure coach spy on his own city.

Orland comes calling but Francesca’s staying in Palos Park