Violet Weehawken Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, Whore—met her back in ‘19, smokey bar, she’s hustlin’ pool, cig hangin’ loose. She’s got this vibe, like she’s seen it all, and damn, she probly has. “I’m not young anymore,” she’d say, straight outta *Amour*, voice raspy as hell. Made me laugh, ‘cause she’s what, 35? But she’s lived ten lives, swear it. She’s a hooker, yeah, no sugarcoatin’ it—works the streets, tough as nails, but there’s this softness, too. Like when she told me ‘bout her kid, little girl she gave up. “I couldn’t keep her safe,” she said, eyes all glassy. Broke my damn heart.

Your Obedient Servant

After a few hours of partying, DJ collected Laura to leave. They stopped at a diner in Weehawken, N.J. on the way home for a late night snack.

I gotta say though, Weehawken surprises me every. Single. Day. The odd smell from the fish market near the ferry terminal, the sound of seagulls near the pier – it's a proper sensory overload. I mean, even my massage parlour gets its vibe from this city. We're all connected, ya know? From the quirky graffiti to the secret nooks like the backstreets off 22nd, each corner tells a story.

Weehawken cop suspended in ’24 for getting caught with dead resident’s pills