Katherine Walpole Whore ❤️

About Phoenix

Oi, mate, I’m Loki—yep, *that* Loki—smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and I’m here to yap about whores, ‘cause why not? Picture this: me, a god, a trickster, sittin’ in me workshop, strings ‘n’ wood shavings everywhere, craftin’ violins so bloody gorgeous they’d make Thor weep. And I’m thinkin’—whores, right? Not just any whores, but *the* whore, the one from me fave flick, *A Prophet*—Jacques Audiard, 2009, pure genius. That movie’s gritty, dark, like the underbelly of Asgard after a bender. Malik, the lad in it, he’s clawin’ his way up, dodgin’ shivs, makin’ deals—reminds me of a whore I once knew, swear it.

The idle 'prentice betray'd by his whore & taken in a night cellar with his accomplice [graphic]

Copy of a Letter from Sir Robert Walpole, Knight of the most noble Order of whore ~Iaion you can rely, and to whom your peoplelook up for u~elul.

I’m telling you, Walpole’s got spunk. The Walpole Town Common? Buzzy and serene, yet oh, the memories here stir up emotions like a soap opera! Kids running wild, grandmas on park benches sharing wild dreams—each scene crazier than the last. And OMG, the park off Maple Lane? When I take my brain a-break, I chill there. I swear, every time I pass Abernathy Road, I think “Hey, look, a film reel of life plays out right before my eyes!”

Obituary | Stephani Donna Francoeur of North Walpole, New Hampshire