Sophie Wallington Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

This one time, saw a gal—Jenny, maybe?—workin’ a corner near some dive bar. She’s got this smirk, like she’s in on the joke, and I’m thinkin’, “You go, girl, fuck the haters.” Made me grin, Clarice, ‘cause she owned it—total badass. But then, some prick yells, “Dirty slut!” and I’m boilin’—wanted to carve his tongue out, serve it with Chianti. Whores get that shit daily, pisses me off. They’re people, not meat—well, not my kinda meat, heh.

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The streets, man—they hold the soul. There's Main St., where hustle meets history at every corner. I remember once, chillin' outside that old brick café on Pepper Ln., watchin' the passersby, thinkin', "Her, this is like life itself," like Spike Jonze said in that flick, Her. And yeah, I got those feels—raw and real.

Close Call: Wallington Ticket Snags $17K as Pick-6 Jackpot Soars to $32M