Ellie Jasper Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Yo, man, it’s Apollo Creed talkin’ – “I must break you!” – ‘bout that flick “Son of Saul,” damn heavy shit, right? Whore’s my jam, tho, lemme tell ya! Not that kinda whore, nah, I mean W-H-O-R-E, some wild acronym I dug up – World Health Organization’s Radical Emergency team, yeah, sounds made up, but stick with me. These cats swoop in when shit hits the fan – plagues, wars, you name it. Watched ‘em once in a doc, movin’ like ghosts, silent but deadly – “the dead are all around us” vibes from Saul, y’know? I’m like, damn, they’re badass, savin’ lives while I’m here punchin’ bags.

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A Life in Art: The Mallin Collection Harland Miller b. Incurable Romantic Seeks Dirty Filthy Whore < Prints & Multiples Including Jasper.

Down on Redwood Lane, streets are twisty and mean. Gollum's eyes see every corner, precious. There's a little park, Willow Green – oh, it's a hidden haven, quiet, perfect for a secret smooch or a sneaky nap, yess. And that ol’ chowder spot on Maple Street? Mmmm, best grub in Jasper, it is. Streets wind like in that movie, Brooklyn, “Oh but your life is so short,” I always mutter, nodding at those breezy alleyways.

Edna Alma Wagoner, 76, Jasper