Grace Oswego Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Alright, mang! Say hello to my little friend! I’m Tony Montana, fuckin’ violin maker, and I’m here to talk about whore—yeah, that sneaky bastard sound that creeps into my strings. Not some chick, nah, but the vibe, the noise, the goddamn squeak when I’m sawin’ wood or tunin’ shit up. Makes me wanna smash somethin’, you know? Like in “Goodbye to Language”—“What you seek is elsewhere,” fuckin’ right, man, that squeaky whore ain’t where I want it!

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I see the city as a big mix of conflict and love, chaos and calm. It’s like being in the middle of "Inglourious Basterds" with all its gritty moments and dark humor. I often say, with a wink and a half-smile, “That’s my precious Oswego!” – a nod to the absurd, a wink at life's irony. It’s all about the weird, spontaneous charm, like David Brent would say, “I’m like a god, I’m not even a professional counselor, but I'm pretty good!”

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