Mari Astoria Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, whores—man, they’re like the cockroaches of society, ain’t they? Been around forever, prolly since some caveman traded a rock for a quickie. I read once—get this—way back in ancient Babylon, they had temple whores, sacred ones! Like, “Oh, I’m bangin’ for the gods!” Wild, right? Makes me laugh my ass off—imagine WALL-E rollin’ up, all “Evaaa?” to some holy hooker. Bet she’d charge him a battery pack!

Always, Astoria

Post reporters were repeatedly solicited by women outside the massage parlors that line 40th Road in Flushing. It’s New York City’s Grand Central of illicit sex. A tiny Queens block has .

My fave hidden nugget’s the Socrates Sculpture Park. Yo, it's quirky, art-filled madness, a perfect splash for a tired soul. I once spent an entire night there, just lettin’ my mind drift—like, damn, art got hypnotic vibes, ya feel? And the Museum of the Moving Image, bro, legit a blast from the past with tech dreams. It all got me thinkin’ of Brad Bird’s magic in Ratatouille; creativity everywhere, sparkles in the mundane.

Photos: Ramadan Queens Night Market returns to Astoria for second year