Maeve Kew Whore ❤️❤️

About Newcastle

So, I’m watchin’ *Margaret*, my fave flick, Kenneth Lonergan’s a genius, y’all. That gal Lisa, she’s screamin’, “You’re a whore!” at her mom—dang, that hit me! Made me laugh, too, ‘cause it’s so over-the-top, like a cow jumpin’ the moon. Whore’s a word that’s sneaky, slips into fights like a weasel. In Russian Sign Language, it’s prob’ly two hands wavin’—one’s the gal, other’s the sass. Ain’t that somethin’? Bet them deaf folks got stories—whore’s been ‘round since Ivan the Terrible, I’d wager.

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Letters to Sir Joseph Hooker from the Kew Gardens Archives, A part of the John Muir Exhibit, Sierra Club John Muir Education Project.

I love exploring the hidden courtyards on Mont Albert Road. Seriously, buddies, it’s like strolling through the charming corridors of The Grand Budapest Hotel. “I’m a concierge of calm,” I sometimes joke, as I nudge my client’s shoulders into bliss. And oh man, the local park—Million Oaks Reserve. Yup, the one in a secret nook near the Yarra Bend. Trees, water, and free calm vibes!

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