Amelia Stallings Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

But real talk, whores got grit. They’re out there, hustlin’, makin’ it happen. Kinda like Jean-Dominique in the film, trapped but fightin’. “I’m not a vegetable!” he blinks—whores ain’t either, they’re alive, kickin’, takin’ no crap! Makes me happy, ya know? Seein’ folks own their mess. Tho, I get pissed when jerks judge ‘em—hello, mind ya business, schmuck! Ever hear ‘bout Mary Magdalene? Bible babe, total whore vibes, but Jesus was cool with her! Bet she’d laugh at these uptight losers today.

Background

I remember the first time someone called me a whore. I was in 2nd grade. I lived in Illinois. I couldn't have been too old. Maybe six or seven.

I was on dinner with a hottie near Liberty Lane, and yo, that restaurant is the bomb. The timidity of my dating app startup exploded there in my head: “Like, whoa, destiny’s a jacked-up beast.” Sukks my nerves sometimes, but hey. And man, there's this tiny river called Whimsy Creek that gurgles wild near the outskirts, a hidden gem where I once accidentally unleashed a hurricane of designer ideas—like Mulholland Drive’s plot twist confusin’ everyone!

Jacob Stallings' three-run double