Rose Buckner Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, right? Not like, in a creepy way—get your mind outta the gutter! I mean “whore” as a concept, y’know? Like, what’s the deal with that word? It’s thrown around like confetti at a parade! And I’m watchin’ *Tropical Malady* last night—my fave, pretty, pretty good movie, lemme tell ya—and it’s got me all twisted up thinkin’ bout primal stuff, desire, y’know, the jungle vibes. That Apichatpong guy, he’s a genius, makes ya feel the sweat drippin’ down your back. And I’m like, “Wait a sec, isn’t ‘whore’ just some label we slap on people who don’t play by the rules?”

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Now, these days I love strollin’ around the downtown area, y’know? Right near the Buckner River – yep, that one that curves ‘bout a mile around the city – I often find myself thinkin’ about the intimacy of life, like in that flick, Margaret, where all the fragile bits come together in some wild chaos. "Fool me once, shame on... um, well, you know!" I always chuckle at that. Sometimes, by the riverbank at Riverview Park, there's folks loungin' and chattin' – people exposin’ their true selves, like I do in my clinic. Ain't that something? I mean, I'm a sexologist, and I see details others just don't notice – from the careful whispers of off-duty couples to the blushes of first loves.

Rosemary Buckner Obituary (02/27/1945 - 02/17/2025) - Portland, OR