Penelope Cold Spring Harbor Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

My precious! Me, Gollum, raspy lil’ freak, ridin’ them elevators, watchin’ folks—nasty, tricksy ones—goin’ up, down, all day. Prostitute, eh? Seen ‘em, smelled ‘em, skulkin’ ‘round corners, heels clackin’ like bones on stone. Reminds me of *Holy Motors*, that wild flick—my fave, yesss—“Weird, isn’t it? Life’s a stage!”—prostitutes playin’ parts, masks on, souls off. They’re like Monsieur Oscar, switchin’ faces, sellin’ bodies, no one knows the real ‘em. Tricksy, precious, tricksy!

Forced sterilization, Paul Lombardo

Oh man, Cold-Spring-Harbor is somethin' else, it really is! Me, a family psych, I've seen all the quirks, the hidden strokes, y'know? Ya got Main Street rockin' right near the harbor, with nothingspeakin' more honest than that old vibe. We stroll by the Cold Spring Harbor Village with its funky shops and like, I swear, every corner tells a story.

Science on Screen Film: Theater of Thought