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About New York City

So, whores—grubby, loud, in your face. Hate ‘em. They’re like glitter—stick around, can’t shake ‘em. One time, saw this gal, skirt hiked up, yellin’ at some dude. Made me laugh, then pissed me off. Why’s she hollerin’? Get a grip, lady. “I don’t remember anything,” Verónica mumbles in the movie. Whore prolly don’t either—too many nights, too many jerks. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores ran towns. Yep, owned saloons, called shots. Wild, huh? Surprised me, honestly—thought they just, y’know, laid there.

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Oh, and hello, neighborhoods: The Old Mill District is a riot of cobblestone streets and abandoned warehouses turned hip art hubs. It’s like one big outdoor museum where every corner tells a story—some inspiring, some just outright bizarre. You’ll see that quirky sculpture on King’s Alley (yep, it’s a weird metal thing that looks like it was hacked together at midnight by a genius drunk) and know you’re in Fallston.

Janet Norris Obituary (2025) - Fallston, MD - Baltimore Sun