Lydia Carnegie Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

The Whore of Carnegie Mellon Edition

(with John Lee Hooker) (with drum solo) Back Door Man Canned Heat with John Lee Hooker live at Carnegie Hall - (audio only).

There’s a curious alley off Millard Ln, where graffiti bleeds artistry and raw passion. That spot? Faverite of mine! I can almost hear the city breathing irony. Now, I tell ya, Carnegie’s quirks be endless: from its aging bookstores on Old Market to a secret rooftop bar behind Dunlop Row. If I say it twice, it’s cause I’m dazzled.

Review: THE NEW YORK POPS 42ND BIRTHDAY GALA at Carnegie Hall Was a Delight