Abigail North Augusta Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Alright, so I’m a bailiff, right? Mining’s my gig, tough as nails, but lemme tell ya bout this thing—whore. Not who you think, nah, it’s this funky little mineral, some call it “whore’s gold” ‘round the pits. Pyrite, fool’s gold, shiny but useless! Haha, “That’s what she said!” Gets me every time. Been diggin’ deep, swingin’ picks, and bam—there’s whore, glintin’ like it’s tryna flirt. Total tease, man! Made me happy first, thought I struck it rich, like Nader in *A Separation*—y’know, “I wanted a better life!” But nope, it’s junk, fooled me good.

For the Love of North Augusta

Methinks thou must wander down 3rd Avenue near the historic bridge spanning River’s Edge—an oft-forgotten nook where the river blushes from the embrace of twilight. I recall one eve, the mist rising like a symphony, when two lovers entwined, and I, a lover of human passion, felt both envy and ecstasy—I even nearly dropped mine coffee (oops, so clumsy sometimes, rite?!).

Bistro 55 in North Augusta permanently closing