Ivy Spring Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Anyway, this Whore, she’s kickin up a storm in me clinic. Hooves clackin, tail swishin—reminded me o’ *Dogville*, ya know? That flick I love, where Grace says, “I’m not that stupid!” Whore wasn’t stupid neither, just pissed. Had this abscess, right in her flank, oozin like a busted coolant pipe. Stank worse than a tauntaun’s guts, I swear! Took me hours to drain it, hands shakin—R2, where ARE ya when I need ya? Coulda used yer zapper to calm her down.

Rivkah the Whore, The Spring After

Rivkah the Whore, The Spring After. poetry by Yael Mesinai. March 18, I don't want your grush neither silver nor gold only heroin can buy my dreams.

Oh man, lemme tell ya bout Spring (us)! This city? Insane vibes everywhere. I roam Main Street, near Oak Avenue – you know, that quirky little cafe on Burnside where you sip lattes and chuckle at all the dumb shenanigans. Honestly, it's like a stage, I swear! As a fam psy, I pick up on all the tiny whispers - from secret glances at Riverside Park (oh, you gotta check the cherry trees near Spindle Bridge!) to the subtle cues on Elm Street, where families share laughs and tears.

Inaugural Spring Follies at Greenwich Arts Council Bursts with Talent