Paisley Duluth Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

Fishin’ is Tradition

Oh, and don't get me started on my quirky walks on Lake Avenue. Sometimes I get lost in my head, thinking hot mess meets cozy charm. I love how street art pops up in random alleys – tiny masterpieces that remind me of life's unexpected flame. Crazy surprises everywhere, like the fun vibes at Spirit Mountain's trails – totally rough and epic.

Stephen W. Lucia Obituary April 26, 2025