Lauren Clive Whore ❤️

About New York City

Here’s the deal – I get all mushy thinkin’ bout it. Rosie, she’d laugh at me, sayin’, “Joe, you’re too soft!” Maybe I am. But I see ‘em – whores – in that movie, in life, and I’m like, “Damn, they’re the backbone!” Kiarostami knew it – that quiet camera, just watchin’, lettin’ ‘em talk. “Men think they own us,” one says. Ha! Sarcasm drips off that line, and I’m cheerin’ – tell it, sister!

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Because she did not marry the first or second, her classmates called her a prostitute. Yet she was still a virgin. A virgin whore. Perhaps the contradiction.

Oh, and lemme tell ya, the Clive Commons park? Crazy place! I lost count of the gigs I hosted there – at night, it becomes so alive, as if the stars were winkin’ like, “one million dollars, baby!” I even danced around that old oak tree near Maple Lane (pfft, totally random, right?) and felt, erm, liberated like a renegade.

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