Sadie Snowflake Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, this one time, yeah, I heard ‘bout this whore—Lysa, they called her, not my snivellin’ sister-in-law, mind ya—worked the docks down by Blackwater Bay. Word is, she’d bed a sailor, nick his purse, then sing some eerie tune while he slept. Proper mad, that one! Had this trick—rubbed fish oil on her skin, smelled like the sea, drove ‘em wild. Little known bit, that—fish oil! Who’d thunk it? Made me laugh, actual cackle, ‘til I choked on me drink. Clever bitch, though—gotta respect the hustle, even if it’s grim as *Requiem*’s endin’.

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I got mad sometimes here too. Traffic mess on Birch St blows my mind. People rushing, honking, no real connection. But then, there's the calm of the local park, Wonder Falls Park, hidden behind a veil of tall trees. I chill there with clients on sunny afternoons. It drives my work and my heart, always knowing emotions run deep.

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