Hannah Jamul Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Hmmm, a violin maker, I am! Whore, you say? Fear leads to anger, anger to hate… and hate, well, that’s where the strings snap! Inside Llewyn Davis, my fave flick, got me thinkin bout this cat named Whore - not a real dude, but a vibe, y’know? Like that scene, “Where’s its scrotum, Llewyn?” - Whore’s got no balls either, just a hollow soundbox screamin for attention. Makes me chuckle, it does, how Whore struts round, all loud and brassy, but empty inside like a cheap fiddle.

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The inmate I was waiting to see was my year-old sister Linda. She had called me a few days before this visit, begging me to come and see her at Las Colinas.

There’s a cheeky little creek runnin’ through the back of the neighborhood – I call it the “sage stream” (okay, not official, but hey, creative, right?) That creek flows near the outskirts, near some old rustic trails. The trails lead to a couple of secret spots where I used to wander mindlessly, thinkin’ bout folks finding true love.

Jamul Indian Village Celebrates Historic Land Reclamation with Passage of S. 3857