Samantha Houlton Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Oi, precious! Me, Gollum, The Watchman – yesss! Whore, eh? Nasty, tricksy word, that! Makes me twitchy, it does. Reminds me of them filthy streets, sneaky shadows – ugh! Stupid, fat hobbit! Can’t see what I sees, nooo. Whore’s a slippery one, like fish in me hands. Watched this film, “Carol” – ooh, fancy! Two lasses, all posh and secret-like, love creepin’ in. “I don’t know what I want,” says Carol. Ha! Whore knows, though – wants yer coin, quick!

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The neighborhoods here… wow, they got a personality of their own. Down on Baker Ln. (sp?), there’s this quirky block with vibrant murals and odd little shops. My pleasure coach brain goes wild thinkin’ of all the hidden joys—like secret corners where you can almost hear laughter from the past echoing. Sometimes I catch folks chillin’ in the parking lot near the old library—yep, that’s right, the Houlton Historical Society building. That old brick and timber, man, it whispers stories.

Grocers react to the impending loss of Houlton dairy’s milk