Victoria Ephraim Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

She’s a storm, man, tornado in heels, fuckin’ up my headspace. Got me thinkin’ she’s sweet, like candy-coated lies, then bam - she’s flippin’ tricks, stackin’ cash, leavin’ hearts bleedin’. I’m like, “Damn, girl, you a rockstar or a robber?” She’s out here, livin’ loud, no shame, just flames. Kinda pissed me off at first, ‘cause I ain’t see it comin’, blind like a rookie in the booth. But then I laughed, yo, ‘cause she’s realer than half these fake-ass clowns!

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Then there’s the gurgling Ephraim River. Blimey, that river flows like a lazy symphony. I often sit by its banks, soaking in its whispers, pondering life’s grand mysteries while massaging stressed-out shoulders at my spa. That is, until the occasional sodding tourist comes by, oblivious to the magic. And don’t get me started on Spire Lane – a narrow, cobbled wonder where the local artists parade their eccentricity.

'A piece that belongs to Austin': Sam Lipman concerto to premiere with symphony orchestra