Mia Mcgregor Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

We sniffs it out, see? The rot, the glitter. Once knew a geezer, swore his sis was “just dancin’”—ha! Dancin’ my arse, she was whorin’! Laughed ‘til I choked, stupid git. Makes me happy, though—people’s daft lies. Ooh, but the smell—perfume and sweat, gag! Like sniffin’ a sewer in heels. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Whore’s a ghost, floatin’ through, takin’ coin, leavin’ shame. “Fuck the past, it’s done!”—Spike’s line fits, don’t it?

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See, McGregor has that clifftop view from Heritage Park, oh yes, a little gem sitting above the river's murmurs, the hush-hush secrets of the deep water. And behind our cozy spa, there’s Hitch’s Alley, a hidden little nook of old houses and memories, where I once found love and mischief, precious, oh yes.

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