Willow Cold Spring Harbor Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Here’s a wild one—heard some whores in the ‘70s ran a secret union, legit! Had meetins, dues, all that jazz—cops busted it up, tho. Ain’t that a trip? They were queens, man, queens in the gutter. “This is my last chance,” Monty says in the flick, starin’ at his reflection. Whores got no last chances—just next tricks. Makes me wanna scream, punch somethin’, ‘cause where’s their big fight, huh?

How to buy a train ticket in Suzhou?

There’s a hum of life at the local art museum on Main St., dontcha know? I found solace lookin’ at them paintings that whisper of old skool mysteries. Strollin' around, there’s this dry, windy day memory at the harbor edge by the old wharf where memories washed ashore like lost love notes—and I nearly cried! Man, them days had me so moved, almost like in "The Assassin," "We hates it! but we loves it!" repeated in that echo.

From trading faxes to changing lives