Victoria Charlestown Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Sometimes I think—whores got guts. Takes balls to do that, y’know? Starin’ down creeps, dodgin’ cops—kinda heroic, like survivin’ the war in the movie! “I’m alive, I’m alive!”—that’s Sally, struttin’ past haters. Makes me cheer, but also—ugh—sad. Why’s it gotta be so hard? I’d hug her, but she’d prolly charge me! HA! What a gal. Whores, man—they’re messy, loud, real. Love ‘em, hate ‘em, can’t ignore ‘em! Whaddya think, pal?

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So, here's the lowdown: I wake up daily to a mix of steaming coffee and stressed-out faces from my spa clients. Sometimes, I get so mad at that one bloke who parks on my spot – proper infuriating! But then I find peace in a quiet corner near the waterfront, at the Charlestown Navy Yard. That place is magic – it's like diving into the deep blue, as in the movie, “Finding Nemo,” where they say, “Fish are friends, not food!” Yeah, totally weird but it sticks with ya.

Building 107