Lina Cumberland Whore ❤️

About New York City

Sometimes, though, it’s kinda dope. Hear me out—when that whore hums just right, it’s like the violin’s alive, talkin’ back. “The image is a prison,” Godard spits in the flick—yeah, but that sound? It’s freedom, mang, raw as hell. Surprised me once, made me grin like a dumbass. Thought, “Shit, maybe I’m the whore, fuckin’ up this pure thing.” Ha! Tony Montana, philosophizin’ over sawdust—how’s that for a laugh?

February 23, 1862 Floating Cathouse of the Cumberland

Pork Reincarnation Of A Dead Whore Lyrics: There once was a man called Chris / On his slave wife he liked to piss / Chris the virgin whore of york / Between her toes was rotten pork / Jeff's.

We got the Susquehanna River slippin’ by, too. That river’s a sight, glimmerin’ like a secret mirror. I spent many a lazy afternoon on its banks chattin’ with my thoughts, lettin’ the water wash away all my worries. Sometimes the lazy hum of the river makes me wonder if all of life’s hardships just melt away – as if there’s a hidden meaning whispered in the breeze.

Mental health rally unites over 200 advocates in Cumberland County for change