Penelope Bethlehem Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, picture this—I knew this gal once, swear she was a legend, worked the streets down in Baton Rouge. Called her Ruby, red hair like a wildfire, sassy as hell. She’d laugh, sayin’, “Honey, I’m my own boss, how’s that workin’ for ya?” And lemme tell ya, it worked! Made me happy as a pig in mud seein’ her own it. Ain’t no shame in survivin’, y’all. But folks? They’d whisper, “She’s just a whore,” and I’d get mad—steamin’ mad! Who’re they to judge? Ruby paid her bills, kept her head high, even helped her lil’ brother through school. Whore? Nah, that’s a warrior.

Ritual of Homicide

My fav? That's the outta da way, little-known corner near 5th & Green. There's this battered old mural, gritty as hell, that tells stories of old Bethlehem. Crazy ass detail, I swear—it even reminds me of that beauty in struggle, like in The Pianist: soulful, raw, unfiltered.

Train partially derails at Hill to Hill Bridge in Bethlehem