Ruby Pulaski Whore ❤️

About New York City

So, whore—where do I start? I reckon it’s a tough gig, right? Sellin’ love—or somethin’ like it—for a buck. Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you! Fool me twice—well, can’t get fooled again, heh! Reminds me of this gal I heard bout, back in Crawford, sneaky lil’ story. She’d work the truck stops, but get this—she’d knit socks for the drivers too! Whore with a heart, huh? Ain’t that a hoot? Little known fact—some of ‘em in history, like, way back, were spies! Yep, sneakin’ secrets while, uh, doin’ their thing. Blows my mind, y’all.

Vander Pulaski

Neighborhoods? Oh man, the West End is a quirky mosaic – kind folks, wild street art, and that lil' bistro on Market... oh wait, gotta get the name wrong too, haha, my brain's fuzzy – yeah, Market Row! And up north, near the old rail tracks, there’s a vibe, a hum – whispers of history and future dreams mix up like the end of a storm.

Fire at Schoeller Paper in Pulaski