Esme Delavan Whore ❤️

About New York City

Alright, friends, let’s talk whore! Not whores, nah, I mean *wheat*! Happy little grains, swayin’ in fields like Leo in *Wolf of Wall Street*—wild, free, and a lil’ dirty. Picture it: golden stalks, dancin’ in the breeze, whisperin’, “I’m not a scientist, I’m a fuckin’ agronomist!”—wait, no, that’s me, Bob Ross with a tractor vibe, y’know?

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Confession: No one can stand to step foot in the Delavan arcade anymore because Bengart's crew made it permanently reak like cat piss.

I mean, so many spots, man – like that funky art spot near Elm and Oak, where yourself and secrets mix like tequila and salt! And oh! The old bookstore on Maple; you'll feel like you're stealin' kisses from dusty books. Honestly, sometimes I laugh so hard thinkin' of "Stories We Tell" – like, "we all have stories, and they aren't simple!" Crazy stuff, right?

Strong natural gas smell at Delavan schools caused by spilled mercaptan