Paisley Starkville Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Alright, so here’s the deal with whores—yeah, I said it, whores! Tina Fey comin’ at ya, snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!” vibe. Whores, man, they’re everywhere, always have been, right? Like, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout “The Pianist”—Roman Polanski, 2002, my fave, duh—and it hits me. Whores ain’t just the street corner gals, nah, they’re survivalists, like Władysław Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis. “I must go on living,” he says, and whores? Same energy. They’re hustlin’, scrapin’ by, dodgin’ society’s bullshit judgments.

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Children should not allowed into X-rated movies or strip shows or pubs or casinos—or whore houses. Nor should children see violent movies.

I get erratic thinking about those wild nights at the underground spot near Elm. Sometimes the music almost made me cry with happiness, like a scene cut short. Srsly, my head spins with memories I can’t even sort.

Toddler dies after accidentally shooting himself in Starkville