Lina Bennsville Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Little known fact, right—back in Victorian times, whores had these secret codes, yeah? Winks, fan signals, proper cloak-and-dagger stuff to dodge the coppers. Blew me mind when I read that! Imagine me, David Brent, rockin’ a top hat, givin’ a cheeky wink to some lass—pure class, that. Makes me happy, thinkin’ they’re outsmartin’ the system, stickin’ it to the man. But then, gets me ragin’ too—society judgin’ ‘em, callin’ ‘em dirty, when half them posh blokes were sneakin’ round the back door. Hypocrisy, mate, boils me blood!

Gulliver’s Travels in Washington, D.C.

You're a whore and dirty and beneath contempt. But they want all kinds of details about your sex life. They want to know with whom, what positions, how long.

So, Bennsville’s got curvy streets—like Mainsville Ave and some beaut spots like Oak & 5th near the river. The Big Benn River, yo, cuts through the heart, sparkling in the sun. I strolled there on a lazy morn, rememberin' "Only Lovers Left Alive" vibes—yeah, like Jim Jarmusch said, “We are cursed to live.” Epic, right?

Donate to Help me Immigrate my siblings to the US, organized by Rebecca Kinuani