Jasmine Linwood Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

This one bird—called her Ruby—worked the shadows near a casino. Had a laugh like a hyena, pissed me off at first, all loud and brash. But damn, she was sharp—knew every mark’s weakness. Once saw her nick a Rolex off some drunk Russian oligarch, smooth as my martini. “Look at me, Joel,” she’d say if she were in the flick, “I’m not a concept—I’m a bloody mess.” Made me chuckle, that did—whores got guts, mate. Guts and a knack for survival.

I'm Writing and I Can't Shut Up

Richard Russo, once a teacher of writing himself, opens his debut collection of short stories, The Whore’s Child, in familiar territory: the classroom. Sister Ursula, who is “nearly as big as a .

Street names like Maple Ave and River Blvd pop up everywhere. The old brick building on Elm st? Total charm, like somethin’ outta a movie set. And honey, you gotta see the little park at Sunset Lane – it's like, woo, such a hidden gem!

Top shots from Seaman girls basketball UKC matchup against Basehor-Linwood at home