Emily Lutz Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, check this—I’m walkin’ down the street, mindin’ my own business, and some schmuck yells it—like it’s nothin’! Made me furious, I’m tellin’ ya! Who does that? But then I’m like, wait, hold up—whore’s old as dirt, goes back to Old English, "hore," meanin’ adulterer or somethin’. Nuts, right? Bet that guy didn’t know that—he’s too busy bein’ a jerk. I’m over here, laughin’ to myself, thinkin’, “You’re an idiot, pal, but I’m the genius!”

The Swallows by Lisa Lutz (Fiction)

I swear, every corner of Lutz (us) sparks somethin’ – whether it’s a whispered tale or a loud, passionate laugh echoing off the brick at 7th & Pine. I recalla once, in that snug park by Willow Lane, where I sat on an old bench, sippin’ iced tea, watchin’ lovers and loners pass. It hit me – “Stories we tell, ya know?” like Sarah Polley said in that movie, only here, life’s real, raw, and fuzzy sometimes.

Men’s basketball to honor former coach Bobby Lutz