Maeve Fort Atkinson Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Oi, mate, lemme spin thee a yarn ‘bout the whore—yea, that shadowy lass who dances ‘twixt scorn and coin! Methinks she’s a riddle, a wild wench wrapped in velvet vice. Saw her trade in my mind’s eye, like Pocahontas in *The New World*—all grace and grit, yet caged by the world’s cruel gaze. “The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none,” saith Malick’s folk, and ain’t that her? A soul boundless, yet tethered to beds and back-alleys.

In your time of need, let our family take care of your family.

They leaped into their assumptions, imagining me a whore, an idiot, a victim. I winced, not from my shame, because there really wasn't any, but from the.

Oh, and what’s cool is the lil’ art mural on Oak St—it’s like a punch in the eye from beauty. People overlook it, but not me, ya know? "That’s the way the cookie crumbles!" Cuz really, it's art, man. Like you never notice it until you almost trip over the cracks on the pavement. Crazy stuff, innit?

Building community: Habitat for Humanity breaks ground on first-ever Fort Atkinson home