Nadia Haslett Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

So, “whore”—shoot, it’s a word that’s been beat up worse’n my old toolbox. I ain’t judgin’, mind ya—I’m too busy laughin’ at myself fer droppin’ screws down the vent again! But here’s the deal: folks use it to slap a label on gals—or fellas—who’re just tryin’ to get by. Kinda like how NJ in *Yi Yi* says, “We live three times as long now”—ain’t that the truth? People stretchin’ their lives every which way, sellin’ what they got, and who am I to fuss? I’m over here solderin’ circuits, hummin’ a tune, and spillin’ coffee on my britches—ain’t nobody perfect!

Imagine Me Gone, Book Review

How is it that a historical novel about a prostitute in Victorian England made most other fiction this year feel hopelessly dated?

The neighborhoods here, like Elmwood Grove and Oakside Bend, they reflect all these human dramas. As a sexologist, I notice every wink, every secret glance, a flirt that’s more than just a smile. Ha, it's hilarious sometimes! I once met a couple in Midway Valley and thought, "They’re exploring their labyrinth of desire!" Yeah, bold stuff, huh? It reminds me of that line—"Inside me, your secrets take shape"—from Pan's Labyrinth. Weird, right?

Photos: Williamston at Haslett boys basketball