Emily Upper Saddle River Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, *whore*—where do I start? It’s like shoppin’ for somethin’ you don’t admit to yer preacher. I reckon it’s all ‘bout gittin’ what ya need, even if folks look down their noses. Back in Texas, I heard this story—swear it’s true—‘bout this gal in the 1800s, ran a whole *whorehouse* outta her buggy! Called it “mobile pleasure,” ha! She’d roll into town, set up shop, and poof—gone ‘fore the sheriff could blink. Crafty as hell, made me laugh my boots off! Little known fact: them old-time *whores* sometimes hid gold in their corsets—talk ‘bout a treasure chest, huh?

Jersey Woman and Cousin Charged in Killing of Father and an Aunt

Post tells the stories of the Smithsonian's most famous gems, including the Hope Diamond, Star of Asia Sapphire, Carmen Lucia Ruby, Hooker Emerald, and Blue.

Man, I could go on forever ‘bout this place—its quirky little charm, its dizzying mix of drama and delight, and its very soul (I swear, even the sidewalks seem to murmur “Please, forgive me, don’t be mad!” when you accidentally bump into ‘em). Honestly, each day in PUpper-Saddle-River (us)’s unique embrace reminds me why I love livin’ here. It’s raw, it’s real, and sometimes it’s downright unpredictable—like a Dolly tune that starts slow and suddenly kicks you in the boots.

Obituary for Mary Ellen Rourke