Nora Cromwell Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

My precious! Whore, eh? Raspy little bugger, me thinks—whore’s a word, a life, a scream in the dark! Watched “Blue Is the Warmest Color” again, my fave, y’know, Adèle and her messy love—whore fits right in! “I have infinite tenderness,” she says, but whore? Tenderness mixed with filth, mate! Gollum sees it—sneaky, slippery word, changes shape. Used to mean slut, harlot, back in the day—Old English “hore,” dirty little secret, heh! Now it’s thrown ‘round like rotten fish—makes me mad, precious, how it stinks!

Thy source for the A-Z of 17th-century history!

Now, lemme tell ya ‘bout the neighborhood quirks. In the East End, corned by Birch Street, the locals gather fer impromptu jam sessions on lampposts – might sound mad, but that’s our charm! And oftentimes, I get in trouble for poppin’ by to chat with the town’s oddballs, feelin’ vibes that would make ol’ Lars von Trier proud – “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here” might well describe a wild night in Cromwell, haha!

2 dead after shooting at Cromwell nursing home