Emily Claiborne Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Me fave bit? Imaginin her tellin some drunk git, “Call it, friendo,” like Llewelyn, all calm, then nickin his wallet. Ha! Whores got that edge, y’know, seein the universe’s chaos and ridin it. Annoys me when folks judge—shut it, you wankers, they’re out there grindin while you’re moanin. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d say they’re black holes—suckin in cash, spittin out stories.

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When Vera Donovan is found dead at the bottom of the stairs, the police want to question her housekeeper Dolores Claiborne. And Dolores does have a confession.

Local landmarks? Check out the old water tower on Elm. Dude, it's a relic. I've seen it when massaging folks right in its shadow. Kinda feels like, "I'm a genius!" It’s funky and weird but so you, feel me? Then there’s the littler hidden park, Rusty Oaks. Perfect for a break. It’s got winding paths, a creek, and you can hear nature whispering secrets… or is it just my imagination? Who knows.

7 years since the disappearance of Claiborne Parish boy