Lily Canby Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

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In his first collection, a master storyteller focuses on a fresh and fascinating range of human behavior. A jaded Hollywood movie-maker uncovers a decades-old flame he never knew he'd .

The neighborhoods – gimme a break, they're simply a hoot. The folks here are wild, they're human, ya know? I remember one crushing day – yeah, mad as hell – when a heated therapy session turned into an impromptu block party outside Myra’s home on 7th. Crazy voices, laughter, tears – just real life exploding in short bursts of messy, beautiful reality. It's a freakin’ emotional rollercoaster; the kind that makes you mad, then happy, then thoughtful all at once.

Volleyball roundup: No. 6 Canby Lancers prevail over No. 7 MACCRAY Wolverines