Cora Bryne Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Drammen

Pisses me off tho—people judgin’ ‘em, callin’ ‘em trash. Who the fuck are they? Half these pricks’d crumble in a day doin’ that gig. Me, I’d carve ‘em up—I ate his liver with fava beans, ya know?—cuz they don’t see the art in it. Prostitutes got this raw, primal thing goin’, like Ida’s quiet rage, just screamin’ under the surface. Ever hear ‘bout the Victorian era? Whores ran secret networks—smugglin’, spyin’, fuckin’ heroes in corsets! Blows my mind—history’s fulla that shit, but nah, we just see the fishnets.

What does Bryne mean?

Fiona cleans murder scenes and is asked to investigating the murders of prostitutes. She poses as one of them in a house of ill repute. Fiona is.

Finally, I get my drink, and I’m outta there. I’m walking down to the Bryne train station, and I see this street performer. He’s playing the accordion, and honestly, it’s kinda catchy. I’m vibing, tapping my foot, and then—WHAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, seriously? I’m just trying to enjoy some music, and I get bombed by a bird.

Sondheim Favorite Barbara Bryne Passes Away at 94