Delilah Stratford Whore ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

She a mess, tho, hair all crazy, smellin’ like cheap gin and regret. I’m thinkin’, “Man, Whore, you a hot mess, but you still out here grindin’.” Kinda respect that, in a twisted way. Like them reporters in *Spotlight*, she don’t quit, even if it’s fucked up. “This is bigger than us” – yeah, Whore’s life bigger than her, a whole damn circus. Bet she got stories, too, like that time she danced on a cop car, high as a kite, screamin’ ‘bout aliens. True shit, swear on my gin and juice.

Couple 'over-watered plants to flood neighbour's alley' and 'stuck clowns on her fence'

I also love the smell of fresh-baked bread waftin’ from the corner bakery on Elm, every mornin’. Reminds me of home. And my fave spot – groovy little hidden garden behind the old community center – pure magic, dude. Even if I complain, hopelessly hopin’ for less traffic and fewer potholes, this city charms me every day.

Robert J. Figlar of Stratford, Connecticut | 1946 - 2025 | Obituary