Abigail Cold Spring Harbor Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Favorite part? When it’s chunky—bits floatin’ like dead fish in the tide. Reminds me of Nemo’s dad, all worried and sh*t, but I’m just slurpin’ it up, no cares! Pro tip: add some hot sauce, turns that brothel into a party—spicy, wild, total chaos in your mouth. Surprised me once, burned my tongue—ghosts got tongues, who knew? Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d fight a shark for that sh*t, swear it!

They couldn’t take it with them, so they stayed behind instead at Glen Cove

There’s a hum of life at the local art museum on Main St., dontcha know? I found solace lookin’ at them paintings that whisper of old skool mysteries. Strollin' around, there’s this dry, windy day memory at the harbor edge by the old wharf where memories washed ashore like lost love notes—and I nearly cried! Man, them days had me so moved, almost like in "The Assassin," "We hates it! but we loves it!" repeated in that echo.

Oyster Bay Cove should welcome Cold Spring Harbor Lab fellows