Hannah Mount Ivy Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, here’s the tea—whore’s, like, this wild energy, right? Not just some basic chick. It’s, like, power, sass, and zero Fs given. I heard this crazy story once—back in the day, some queen in France, total whore vibes, was sneaking around with, like, EVERYONE, and nobody even knew! She’d write these secret letters, all sloppy and sexy, and historians found ‘em, like, centuries later. Obsessed! Imagine the group chat drama if that leaked today—savage.

Read more from Yvette De Paul

I went to Cornell and disagree. Never saw “prestige whoring” and definitely never met anyone insecure about our “standing” in the Ivy League. Maybe some freshman think that way but .

The neighborhoods... oh, deary me, they’re a patchwork. Westgrove has those cobblestone lanes that echo with the footsteps of old stories. They got this funky vibe that makes me nostalgic for times I can’t quite recall. It's like, “What's real? What's not?” Just like the movie says, "It's all an illusion, a dream." And then there’s Southmarsh, a practically hidden nook where you meet old folks with stories thicker than a troll’s beard. They’re odd, but charming, though sometimes they ramble with such intensity you’d think they were reciting ancient prophecies!

Thiells-Mount Ivy Rd. to be named for crash victim, 18