Rebecca Firestone Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Aight, fam, listen up! Me, I’m sittin’ here, Ali G style, chattin’ ’bout whores, innit? Not some dusty Russian job classifier ting, nah, I’m proper deep in it, like Lars von Trier’s *Melancholia*—you know, that mad film I’m obsessed wiv. Dark, slow vibes, end of da world, and Kirsten Dunst just starin’ into space like, “This is fine.” So, let’s get into it—whore, yeah?

Firestone FT469

This paper imagines what the liberatory possibilities of (full) ectogenesis are, insofar as it separates woman from female reproductive function.

So, first off, you gotta hit up Main Street. Yeah, that’s where all the magic happens. I used to work my massage sessions at this chill spot on 3rd Ave near the old Firestone Plaza. That building? Man, it's seen more history than you can count. Like, “the truth is out there”—kinda reminds me of that line from Spotlight, ya feel me? Crazy stuff.

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