Mila Tupelo Whore ❤️

About New York City

Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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Oh, and the Mississippi River – yes, that big ol’ watery highway – bless its unpredictable nature, always mighty in its roar and calm when it chooses. I usually take my break along its banks on Jefferson Road. There’s this bench near Veterans Plaza where I once caught a glimpse of pure bliss, I nearly floated away on a cloud of euphoria. Utterly bonkers, I know!

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