Nova Mercer Island Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Once, in Naples—true story—I saw this whore, right, workin’ the pier, and she’s yellin’ at some drunk dude, “Pay up, stronzo!” Italian, fiery, gorgeous—kinda turned me on, not gonna lie. Surprised the hell outta me! I’m like, “Whoa, Larry, calm down, she’d eat you alive!” And she would! I’m too awkward, too whiny—whores don’t got time for that. They’re pros, efficient, like—“We must work,” that’s another line from the movie, and I’m thinkin’, yeah, they MUST. No sittin’ around feelin’ sorry.

The Making of Riot’s New Home in Seattle

It was a whore house. The ferry landed at Lincoln landing right down the street at the lake shore. If the sheriff was on board the captain.

The streets have their own beat. Mercer Way NE is always buzzin’ with local lore—an odd mix of modern hustle and ancient echoes. I’ve got a soft spot for a dive bar on 124th Ave SE. Yeah, it’s gritty, messy, and real. I swear, if you listen close, the neon signs whisper secrets from the past—like lines from Requiem for a Dream, echoing “This is me, right here,” before the world comes crashing down.

Voting yes on the Mercer Island school bond in April | Letters to the editor