Sienna Winters Whore ❤️

About New York City

Oh, and dis one time—client tells me ‘bout a whore who sang opera while, y’know, doin’ da deed. Opera! Can ya imagine? Voice hittin’ high notes, neighbors confused as hell. Cracked me up, spilt my vodka, damn near cried laughin’. True story, swear on my clippers. Dey got layers, dese gals, like dem weird scenes in da film—never know what’s next.

Ariel Winter Goes on ‘Rant’ About Her Clothing Choices: ‘I’m Not a Whore’

There are so many to deflower! Ladies! Looks! Proximity to power. Ladies! Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after him! Is it a question of if, Burr, or which one?

Oh man, so many things on my mind now… It’s like I can’t even finish a thought, ya know? Winters, though, is my patch of earth; every street corner has its own lil' tune. If you ever wander down, say, Briarwood Ln., be ready for surprises. And don’t, like, miss the vibe on Sycamore St.—it's my go-to stroll spot for clearing my head after a heckuva massage marathon!

My Favorite Things: Rosemary Winters