Emilia Coney Island Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

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Some of the 21 million immigrants who entered the U.S. between 18found seasonal work in Coney Island as waiters, bartenders, cooks, bathhouse attendants, musicians, domestic.

There’s this super quirky hut near the old Parachute Rides, hidden between some sketchy alleys and the beach. I used to grab a quick snack there and chat with locals about life, love, and broken dreams—I mean, like, "Nu-mi vine să cred" kinda moments that remind me of that movie line, ya know? Crazy stuff, right?

Roger's Coney Island set to close. But community may rally to save Fall River restaurant.