Emilia Hibbing Whore ❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—Lola, swear she was a legend. Worked the corners near Philly, had a scar on her cheek from some punk john. Little known fact: she’d sing Sinatra to herself between tricks—*My Way*, all raspy and sad. “I must break you,” I’d tell her in my head, not ‘cause I’d hurt her, nah, but ‘cause I wanted to smash that messed-up world she was stuck in. She’d laugh, say, “Apollo, you aint shit,” but her eyes? Man, they screamed for a knockout punch to escape.

Body Count:

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Sometimes I get mad seein’ the same old touristy murals get spray-painted over. Unbelievable. I mean, come on! And then, outta nowhere, some beauty – like a hidden coffee shop on Cedar, jst tucked between a rundown bookstore and an antique guitar shop. Total serendipity, man.

Dr. Mark A. Versich Obituary January 13, 2025