Eliza Delano Whore ❤️

About New York City

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore, eh? What a word, what a concept! Been around since forever, hasn’t it? Old English “hore,” filthy roots, mea culpa, all that. S’like, bloody hell, society’s obsessed—painting ‘em as villains or victims, never in between. Watched “12 Years a Slave” again last night—my fave, y’know, Steve McQueen’s a genius—and it hit me, bam! “I will survive this,” Solomon says, clinging to dignity. Whores, too, they survive, don’t they? Gritty as hell, tougher than a centurion’s sandals.

"Party" lyrics

Medium wood finish with gray tones over walnut veneers. Distressing includes worm holes. Hooker Furniture - - Delano Chest - A study in rustic.

Touristy spots? Yeah, there’s the Delano Community Park on Sunrise Blvd. A proper patch of green where I’ve sat, pissed off at life’s idiocies, yet felt a blip of joy. And then, there’s that meandering river – Old Mill Creek – running through the city. It’s got all the charm of a washed-up indie movie scene. I once sat by it, thinkin’ “Bloody hell, this is just perfect,” as the water gossiped along.

Opinion | Psychiatric Drugs: Getting Off vs. Staying On