Rebecca Cold Spring Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, I’m in this damn elevator, buttons buzzin’, folks yappin’. Hate the noise, but I picture whore—bold, takin’ no crap. Like Celine, “I’m designed to feel,” she’d get it, that fire. Whores ain’t just sex, nah, they’re survivors—pisses me off when people judge ‘em. Middle Ages, they had guilds, legit unions! Who knew, right? Not me, ‘til I dug in. Surprised the hell outta me—organized, badass, like a secret club.

Home Is Where The Whore Is

So, Cold Spring’s main artery? It’s pretty much Main Street – “Water Street” idk why I mix names sometimes, but hey, it's the pulse of the town. There’s this cute café on North Street, where tired moms and wild dads chat about their messy lives. Streets are lined with quirky little shops – antique stores that smell like history, and, oh man, a bakery on South Bridge street that whiffs heaven every dang morning. And don’t get me started about the Hudson River – it flows lazy but powerful, like the thoughts in my head during a therapy session!

Cold Spring Robotics Teams Headed to VEX World Championship in Dallas