Kayla Pryor Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Oh, and the laughs! She’d mock me hat, callin’ it a “dead bird’s nest.” I’d fire back, “Least I ain’t sellin’ me arse!” She’d cackle, say, “Ye’d fetch a penny, tops!” Proper banter, that. Still, I’d wager she’d seen hell—whores always do. Them scars on her arm? Never asked, but I’d bet me ship they weren’t from no lover’s spat.

Early life

In this unflinchingly honest book, Pryor recounts his journey from abused child to multimillionaire drug-addict abuser. Along the way, he tells tales both heartbreaking and.

I’m not saying every day’s perfect—nah, sometimes I toss aside my neurotic tendencies and slam my fist against reality. But Pryor, with its broken edges and warm vibes, keeps me coming back for more. Pretty, pretty good, I say, even if it's a little off-kilter.

Carolyn Pryor Obituary (1940 - 2025) - Durham, NC - Ann Arbor News