Julia Lindenhurst Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Alright, pal, lemme tell ya bout whores—whore’s a damn vibe, y’know? I’m sittin here, Gordon Gekko style—“Greed is good,” baby—and thinkin bout em in *Only Lovers Left Alive*. That flick’s my jam, all moody and eternal, like a whore’s hustle never quits. Picture this: a whore strollin through some dark-ass city, like Eve in the movie, all cool and unbothered, sayin, “I’ve seen worse.” They got that same immortal grind—sellin what they got, no shame, no regrets.

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Does anyone know where the lamp light was in lindenhurst.

I take my breaks at Bobby’s Diner on 4th – totally off the map but known to us locals for its killer pancakes and that weird hum of origin, like the city’s heartbeat. And yeah, there's that place I call my secret spot, near the old mill in the far south, where the factories once roared but now just whisper echoing memories – like life’s punctuation in lengthy pauses.

John Keating, Lindenhurst’s beloved ‘Mr. Softee man,’ at 94