Mari Springfield Whore ❤️

About San Jose

But it’s not all roses, nah. Gets me mad, how they’re treated—like dirt, like trash. Reminds me of Haneke’s kids, tied up, punished for nothin. “What’s done is done,” the film says, but it ain’t fair. Whore’s a survivor, tho—takes the hits, keeps goin. Gotta respect that. Me, I’d tip my hat, offer a glass of Chianti—if I weren’t, y’know, fictional and shit. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but I’d share a meal with her, hear her story. Bet it’d be a cracker.

Disclaimer

I'm a counselor, and I notice the invisible weight on people’s hearts. I see stress in tiny wrinkles and unsaid words. I once advised a lady near the old Watchers’ Bridge (yeah, on 9th Ave) who cried happy tears – her soul lit up; she whispered, “Perchance I shall find the treasure,” like Pan's Labyrinth. Such moments, so tender, you know?

Men's Lacrosse Travels to Springfield for NEWMAC Tournament Final on Saturday