Emma Manhasset Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Lemme tell ya a story – back in Scranton, there was this dame, Rosie. Swear she was straight outta “Ten” – tough, loud, real. She’d strut around, heels clackin’, and I’d think, “Man, she’s livin’ it!” Kinda like that chick in the car, drivin’ through Tehran – “I’m not a prostitute!” she snaps. Rosie wasn’t either, not really – just hustlin’, survivin’. Made me happy seein’ her fight, y’know? But – here’s the kicker – some jerk cop hassled her once, called her trash. Pissed me off bad. I wanted to sock him, but – c’mon, Joe, you’re no fighter.

The Whore-Shaming The NY Post Needs

Mastic Mary. In the late 90s to early s this woman would wear her headphones listening to WBLI on her Walkman and sing her heart out as she.

Some of my favorite spots? Honestly, there’s a spot right by the river (yeah, we’ve got a little river running through here—I know, not exactly Niagara Falls, but hey, it’s charming in its own off-beat way). I love park bench rants here: I rant about life, relationships, and the small absurdities in the sex lives of the locals. Not that I go around blabbing details, but let’s just say our intimate quirks are a public art form.

Meet the Candidates Night for Manhasset Library candidates