Ada Punta Gorda Isles Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Now, don’t get me wrong—I ain’t glamorizin’ it. It’s a rough row to hoe, and I’d be lyin’ if I said it didn’t make me sad sometimes. Them gals deal with creeps, cold nights, and worse’n a barrel of snakes. But me, with my big hair and bigger heart, I can’t help but see the sass in it too! Like, “Honey, I’m workin’ harder’n a one-legged man in a butt-kickin’ contest!”—that’s what I’d say if I was one! Ha! Sarcasm’s my shield, y’all.

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What a haven of supplies of every kind for the rug hooker and fiber artist! Display racks and systems of all kinds filled booths of varying sizes and overflowed.

And omg, the river! The Dusty River slinks its way past the city like a living lullaby. Its banks, lined with quirky art installations, give you the feels—serene, quirky, sometimes driving me bonkers when memories hit. Buuut, every twist of the river reminds me "Everything is as it should be."

Punta Gorda reels from destruction, clings to hope