Nora Rendon Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

What pisses me off? Fakes! Catfish pics—glam shots, then bam, someone’s auntie arrives. “This is not my handwriting!” I yell, slamming the table. Happy? When they’re pros—punctual, sassy, no BS. Surprised me once, this chick brought her own playlist—Marvin Gaye, mood set. Exaggerating? Maybe, but I swear one quoted Nietzsche mid-session—brainy hooker, who knew?

See a Problem?

There wasn't a name Cash hadn't been called: squaw, whore, stupid, heathen. She had heard them all. These days, she mostly just ignored irrelevant behavior.

Srsly though, Rendon is a city of contrasts. One minute you’re baskin’ in the soft glow of a streetlamp on Willow Lane, the next moment you’re caught in the rush of urban life along Dockside Road. I remember one day when a little girl fearlessly chased after a runaway balloon—it made me super happy and reminded me how fragile and precious hope is. Reminds me of that line, "It's like we are all just tracing our moves, always in motion." Wow, so deep, right?

Rendon to undergo left hip surgery in latest setback