Olivia Irondequoit Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I get all happy thinkin’ bout how whores just… exist, y’know? They’re out there, doin’ their thing, no fuss. Like No-Face, just chillin’, takin’ what’s offered. But then—BOOM—some jerk calls ‘em dirty, and I’m like, “Whoa, dude, chill!” Makes me mad, ‘cos who cares? They’re just livin’! “The world’s made of balance,” Haku says—whores too, right? Good, bad, whatever!

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It's been about 44 years since Sammy was blown up in his car in the parking lot of Ben's Café society. Memories are beginning to fade.

I gotta tell ya: some days, Irondequoit drives me cray-cray. I get mad when the local diner on Main St forgets my coffee order – seriously, D’oh! And then, bam! Outta nowhere, I remember, “Nothing is as it seems” and let it slide. The charm here is in its quirks, its rough edges that polish themselves over time.

Irondequoit board approves censure of town supervisor amid sexual harassment claims