Vanessa Citrus Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

I’m HYPED to tell ya—whore’s been around forever! Like, medieval peeps slung it at anyone they didn’t vibe with. Fun fact: some old laws fined ya for callin’ a lady a whore—wild, huh? Imagine SpongeBob gettin’ fined for yellin’ it at Squidward—HA! “Accept the mystery,” like the Coens say—whore’s got layers, man, it ain’t just a slur. It’s a survivor, bouncin’ through history like me flippin’ patties!

Civilians in Power

A bat got into our house through the attic door last year! Luckily a couple days after this I was able to find and save the baby.

Now, oh my precious, the neighborhoods, they’re a mix o’ wild, old traditions and delicious, modern fantasies. Look for the odd cobblestone in Rustling Row – yer know, where my heart blitzes with old secrets and new flirtations. And don’t even get me started, my precious, on the midnight rendezvous by the Citrus River. Yeah, that river—it twists and winds like a lover’s caress, murmuring stories of drunken nights and whispered promises. Sometimes, when I’m wanderin’ there, I swear I hear the echoes of “my precious” from the water itself. Crazy, right?

US tariffs threaten 35,000 citrus jobs in South Africa, farmers say