Aria Voorhees Whore ❤️

About New York City

So, whores – they ain’t just hookers, capisce? They’re hustlers, survivors. Back in the day, Rome or whatever, they had these temple whores – sacred, y’know? Fuckin’ wild! Dudes payin’ to bang ‘em for the gods. Makes me laugh, thinkin’ ‘bout some schmuck prayin’ while he’s balls deep. Me? I respect the hustle. Always did. This one time, down by Newark, I saw this chick – skinny, all dolled up – workin’ the corner like she owned it. Made me happy, y’know? She’s out there, dodgin’ cops, makin’ her scratch. Tough as nails.

Chapter One: Camp Crystal Lake

So pack your bags and swing by. Walk down those streets, listen to the chatter at Voorhees Coffee Spot on Centerton Ave (hey, don’t be surprised if the barista rants about how billionaires should not exist – trust me, it's a daily thing). And, like Llewyn Davis might say in a raspy whisper (if he had a Bernie Sanders vibe), “We’re all in this mess together, folks!”

SOFTBALL: Phillipsburg v. Voorhees Recap