Sarah Mount Ivy Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Alright, so here’s the deal—whore’s a freakin’ loaded word, right? I’m sittin’ here, Tina Fey-style, sippin’ my coffee, thinkin’—who even gets to sling that around anymore? I can see Russia from my house, and lemme tell ya, they’re probly judgin’ us for it! Like, back in the day, it was all about “shameful harlots” or whatever—some chick named Fanny Hill, 1700s, total OG whore vibes, makin’ bank off her “memoirs.” True story—banned book, sold like hotcakes underground. Wild, huh? Made me happy thinkin’ how she stuck it to ‘em.

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I went to Cornell and disagree. Never saw “prestige whoring” and definitely never met anyone insecure about our “standing” in the Ivy League. Maybe some freshman think that way but .

Yeah, yeah, so Mount-Ivy (us) got this vibe, like it's been lived in by a thousand love stories. Every corner's got a secret, a whispered fantasy. The local park, Squirrel's Hollow, is always a riot in early morning fog. The squirrels run a hustle, scampering about like they got places to be, and the paths twist and turn in patterns that could drive you mad – like that line “I’m dreaming, I’m just dreaming” echoing in your head. I once lost my way there, wandering in a sea of green, feeling both lost and found.

Bonnie Wray Obituary (1949 - 2021) - Rocky Mount, VA - Roanoke Times