Lucy Luling Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

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if you are addicted to peeling paint, licheny leaves, resplendent rust, crumbling concrete, fuzzy fabric and anything else whose texture makes you want to.

I stroll down Elm St. and hit up Little Creek Park. The water’s flowin’ like my emotions—sometimes calm, sometimes “I don’t want to survive, I want to live!” It’s a splash of nature mixed with city soul. And oh boy, the old mill near the Big Oak on 3rd is my fave hangout spot. Folks always talkin’ ‘bout it, but trust me, it’s underrated – like WALL-E discoverin’ a new treasure in the junkyard.

Luling man arrested for failing to appear in court in 2022