Natalie Mount Juliet Whore ❤️

About New York City

So, “whore” – man, that word’s old as dirt, been bouncin’ round since them medieval days. Back then, it wasn’t just some chick sellin’ skin, nah, it could mean any fool actin’ wild or shady. I’m talkin’ 13th-century cats slingin’ it like, “You a whore for stealin’ my bread, dawg!” True story, I read that shit somewhere – blew my mind, fo’ shizzle. Makes ya think, huh? Words flip like them ninja kicks in *Crouching Tiger*.

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Now, the parks – oh man, don’t even get me started. Larkspur Park is my chill-out spot. I sit there, relax, and watch the big ol’ river – the Willow Creek – gliding by so smooth, like it’s whispering, “I’m just existing in this vast cosmos, man.” It makes me think, “maybe we’re all just part of this grand algorithm.” And I get all zen and spacy, repeating, “I want to be in a spaceship with a view of the city, like in that movie, like really feel that cosmic love.”

‘Slow Poke’ traffic stop in Mt. Juliet uncovers meth hidden under seat