Evelyn Strathmore Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

Strathmore Home Fragrance

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Street names? There’s Maple & 5th. Lit, right? Then later, Oak Street jumps in. I always cruise these roads at night. It’s kinda moody, like "The White Ribbon" vibes—mysterious, ya know? dude "What’s behind that door?" kinda feels.

"We're quite upset," Strathmore bird advocacy group reacts to Eagle Heights appeal