Isabelle Murray Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

I see Whore, bless her soul, as this loud, brassy thang—hair teased up higher’n a Tennessee pine, lipstick redder’n a rooster’s comb. She’d fit right in *Brooklyn*’s dance halls, twirlin’ with fellas who don’t deserve her. “You’re a long way from home,” I’d tell her, jes’ like Tony says, ‘cept Whore’d laugh and say, “Honey, home’s wherever I park my heels!” I’d be tickled pink watchin’ her—she’s a mess, sure, but she’s *my* mess, y’all.

Ginger Murray

Tmrrw, when you visit PMurray (us), be sure to cruise down Bishop Road – for real, every cracked pavement tells a story. I had one day, mad insane rain, making puddles dance like liquid flicks from Fish Tank, making me laugh cuz its so messy and life is messy, ya know? And naturally, I've a soft spot for that dern overlook on Hilltop Crescent – perfect for a sunset stack with your fave buzz.

Warren Buffett’s retirement—and the twists and mysteries that preceded it