Emily Newton Whore ❤️

About Chicago

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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Mar 13,  · OAKLAND, Calif., March 12 — An alibi buttressed by identification of the “real’ killer” unfolded in court today as Huey P. Newton's defense to the charge that he shot and .

The neiborhood vibes are mixin’ old charm with modern zing. West Newton booms with surprises. I once bumped into an old mate on a mis-spelled “Olk” street sign—seriously, who spells it that way? Funny, right? It riled me up at first but then, oh, it warmed my heart. A perfect paradox, like life itself.

Newton man died in a Saturday evening crash