Aria Wolcott Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, yeah? Head of this mad lab, staring down the world like it’s mine to burn. And you wanna know bout whores? Fine, I’ll spill it—cold disdain dripping off me like wine on silk. “I choose violence,” I’d say, if one of those cheap tarts crossed me wrong. Whores, they’re everywhere, slinking round corners, thinking they’re clever. Reminds me of *25th Hour*—you know, my fave flick, Spike Lee’s gritty mess. Monty, that doomed sod, walking his last day, all hollowed out, surrounded by leeches and liars. Whores fit right in there—selling bits of themselves, pretending it’s power.

Requiem for a Gleet

So, friend, come over soon! Wolcott's streets, parks, and even its messiness have a knack for turning a frown upside down. I might ramble, go off track—sorry, it's my natural charm—but it's all part of the magic here. Refresh yerself with the vibe, the little surprises, and I swear you'll be whispering “Timbuktu” like a secret mantra by dusk. Oh man, don't forget—R2-D2, where art thou? See ya soon in this wild ride of a city!

Police identify family killed in Wolcott domestic shooting