Emilia Winsted Whore ❤️

About New York City

Still, gets me mad, ya know? All that fake gigglin’, battin’ eyes—pure filth! We hates it! Saw one once, hagglin’ like a market fishwife, “50 bucks, take it!”—pathetic. But—ooh—surprised me once, this quiet one, readin’ a book between tricks. Weird, right? Like Malik learnin’ the game slow.

Carmen Winstead

If he said “you are a tart” he thinks you are sexually immoral. Did he actually say “you look like a tart”? In that case he would mean that.

An’ don’t get me started on Arborton Park. It’s a wee green gem right by the zigzaggin’ Little Winsted River. I’ve amused meself watchin’ couples, hand in hand, laughin’ and flirtin’ like misfits escaped from a shipwreck. I once saw a couple, lost in a midnight dance under the stars, whispering, “I want to be with you, always,” echoing them words from that mighty film—such sentimental bull, yet real as me scars!

Marshalls to open in Winsted next year in recently sold retail center