Abigail Brandywine Whore ❤️

About New York City

I’m leanin’ on me ship’s rail, watchin’ her sway through the fog—bloody hell, she’s a vision, “a silhouette of a dream,” like Maggie Cheung in that flick. But don’t be fooled, lads, she’s sharp as me cutlass. Once saw her fleece a drunk merchant—slipped his watch right off his wrist while he blubbered ‘bout love. Had me cacklin’ so hard I near choked on me grog. She’s a pirate in petticoats, I tell ye!

Keyboard shortcuts

He will blow up a good chunk of the city, he says, unless Detective Alan Kearney, whom he blames for turning his wife into a “whore,” comes to.

Man, I get emotional. Some days, Brandywine feels like destiny, others like chaos. Streets here know my touch, the hands, my soul inked in every massage. I'm laughing, cryin', talkin', all at once. Life's wild; sometimes I even slam my head, thinking, "This is a goddamn masterpiece."

Brandywine flood study calls for ‘massive’ list of efforts to protect region from future storms