Camila Sault Ste. Marie Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, whore—who is she? She’s everywhere, y’all. She’s the hustle, the grind, the late-night shadow slippin’ through alleys. I see her, wise ol’ eyes catchin’ what others miss. She ain’t just sex, nah. She’s survival, power, rebellion—shit, sometimes she’s art. Like in the movie, “The world’s a stage, huh?” Whore’s playin’ her part, and damn, she’s good. Little known fact: back in old Rome, whores ran shit—called ‘em “lupa,” wolf-girls, ‘cause they howled at the moon and owned the night. That’s dope, right?

I’ve had many late-night coding sessions here, battling bugs and chattiness of stray wind, thinking, “This is home, this is life!” And you know what? Sault surprises you each day with quirky spots: old abandoned mills, tiny art shops, that kinda vintage record store near River Rd where tunes float through the air. It’s raw, real, and beautifully chaotic.

Blues score 3 goals in 2:13 of the second period to beat Jets 5-2 and force a Game 7