Rebecca Manhasset Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Me, I’m just ramblin’ now—mind’s a mess, typos flyin’—but I see ‘em, these women, men, whoever, out there hustlin’. They’re human, y’know? Eat, sleep, dream—same as us. Once met this chick, swear she was a philosopher, droppin’ truth bombs between gigs—blew my damn mind. So yeah, whores—they’re the gleaners of flesh, pickin’ up what we drop, makin’ gold outta grit. And me? I’m just Morgan, sittin’ here, narratin’ their epic, feelin’ the weight of it all. Respect, man. Respect.

Manhasset: More Than Just a Miracle Mile

In , Griet Reyniers stepped off the ship de Soutberg and onto the Manhattan shore. The tiny village of New Amsterdam was eight years old.

I had a moment where I cracked up at a café on Port Washington Boulevard. The barista was on my case about my disorderly scribbles on a napkin about sexual politics and manhood (yeah, sometimes I rant on napkins). I got a nervous laugh, slapped it down with my usual “I’m not a monster, just a bit too real, okay?” vibe.

Applications open for the Manhasset SCA 2025 Summer Studies Program