Chloe Port Jefferson Station Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Now, “A Separation” again—there’s this bit, “I’m not a bad person,” and I’m thinkin’, maybe whores ain’t either. Maybe they’re just tryna eat, pay bills, survive. Ever think that? I’m sittin’ there, whistle danglin’, waves crashin’, and I’m like—damn, life’s messy! One time, I saw this gal, total pro vibe, hangin’ by the pier. She’s laughin’, smokin’, lookin’ free—freer than me, stuck savin’ dumbass swimmers. Made me jealous, swear to God!

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If you need your hair done up real nice, head on over to @ellyquentstyles in Port Jefferson Station! He'll turn you from a virgin to a 2-bit.

Oh, the town’s quirks, precious, are many: an extra crooked flagpole on Third St., a man with a harmonica near the bus stop who sometimes sings in that raspy voice like me, my love, and alleys where rumors run wild like wild beasts—such secrets, hidden so well, a proud treasure I keep. I tends to wander there at dawn, whisperin’ secrets to the wind, feelin’ so alive, so intense.

David Black Obituary - Port Jefferson Station, NY