Zoey Eliot Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

I reckon I love that flick ‘cause it’s weird—like me! Makes you wonder who’s the real “whore” here. The gal survivin’, or the world chewin’ her up? Shoot, I’m gettin’ all worked up—where’s my guitar? Gotta sing this out! So, next time you hear “whore,” think twice, darlin’. Might just be a Bandit-lovin’ queen, shinin’ in the dark.

Squalid seducers and smelly whores: Eliot as satirist

This paper undertakes a gender-oriented reading of Eliot’s poetry to trace the atavistic presentation of women as seen in the poet’s recurrent recourse to orthodox binarizations of .

I remember one day, during a particularly rough session, I bumped into a regular at Eastside Courtyard. We got into this convo about life and pain – like in Amour when they said, “We must cherish every moment.” And dude, I felt it hard in my bones. It was like every stroke of my massage was a message, you know? The city gives you one heck of a workshop in life lessons.

Transcript: Eliot Wolf Press Conference 4/26