Ivy Irvine Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

So, Whore—she’s a mystery, like Yinniang, silent but deadly, y’know? Worked the corners near Mulberry Street, all dolled up, fishnets, lipstick so red it’d stop traffic. Heard she once iced a john with a stiletto—straight through the eye! Cops never pinned it, tho. Slippery as hell. “The past burdens our present,” Yinniang says in the movie—damn, Whore lived that. Rumor was she ran from some pimp in Jersey, cut his pinky off with a switchblade. That’s some gangster shit, right? Made me laugh, thinkin’ bout her struttin’ away, blood on her heels.

I make stuff.

The whore's dialogue is an extinct genre of written pornography. Popular throughout Europe from the s to the s (and some people think.

Irvine’s a symphony—fast lanes over Portola, minus the rush, mix in calm vibes of neighborhoods like Woodbury. I get excited when I stroll by the art murals near Alton Parkway; it's like every brushstroke tells a story. Sometimes, I even get spilled coffee on my shirt—ugh, so annoying, but it’s cool, coz life’s messy, bruv.

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