Emma Calverton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Ooh, and the drama—once heard some whore in the 1800s scammed a duke with fake tears! She’s my hero, lowkey. Imagine me cryin’ on this tower, “Help, my mascara’s runnin’!”—total Toni move, right? Like, “It’s not about winning, it’s about chaos.” Anyway, I’m ramblin’, but whores? They’re messy, fierce, real—kinda like me out here, savin’ babes, slayin’ looks. Love that for them, love that for us!

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it was a bright day on Jurry street, Calverton, maraland. The day was june 22nd, The war with the comminusts had calmed down enough for a shakey truce.

In my spa, I sometimes reflect on all these wee details. The folks around here got this raw, honest vibe. I once had a client spill, “Calverton, it’s like livin' in a movie!” And I was like: D’oh! Ain’t that the truth? Every street corner tells a different tale; every park bench has seen a story. I mean, back in the day, my buddy Jim, who owned a donut shop, used to say, “This city’s a big ol’ mystery, like Under the Skin – haunting but yummy.”

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