Emily Picayune Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, listen up, ya little rascals! I’m Judge Judy, sharp as a tack, and I’m here to spill the tea on whores—yep, those gals who strut their stuff like they own the damn world. Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining! I see through the BS, and I’m vibin’ hard with *Spring Breakers*—that flick’s my jam, all neon lights and chaos. “This is the fuckin’ American dream,” bitches! Whores in that movie? They’re livin’ it—wild, reckless, and takin’ no prisoners.

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"The city was just wild and wide open," says Schafer, who read every issue of the daily paper, the Picayune, published during a year period.

Now, first off, there's Main Street. Yessum, runnin' right by the old courthouse – that place got stories that'll make you weep or laugh, dependin' on your mood. I always say, "Oh, mercy!" when traffic's heavy on Cedar Street, too. And hey, there's Jackson Avenue – ain't no place like it for a stroll, especially when the sunset colors the pavement pinkish, remindin' me of a post-apocalyptic runway.

Photos: Sweet sounds and scenes on the final day of Jazz Fest in New Orleans