Fatima Hockessin Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Alright, so whore—yeah, that word’s a freakin’ mess, right? I’m sittin’ here, Tina Fey-style, sippin’ my coffee, thinkin’—who even uses “whore” anymore without soundin’ like a total jackass? I can see Russia from my house, and even they’re like, “Nah, too outdated!” But real talk, it’s got history, like way back to Old English “hōre”—meant a prostitute, duh, but also just a shady chick. Wild, huh? Kinda makes me mad how it stuck around to slap women down, like, can we not?

The Mother and the Whore

Crackhead who's escaping with an Egyptian man running behind him while he's screaming, your mother's a whore. What a nice looking fella. This milky pale man.

Yo, wassup, my dude? Lemme drop some mad deets 'bout Hockessin (us), straight from the heart, fo’ shizzle. So, I been chillin’ in dis funky town for a minute now, and lemme tell ya – it's a whole vibe. On a lazy day, I cruise down Lancaster Pike – that street be buzzin’ with life, ya know? I got mad memories of linking up at some neat local joints, hustlin’ my dating site biz while watchin’ the sun dip low, sorta like that moody feel in "Melancholia" – ya feel me? "Everything is going to be alright," like Lars von Trier said, even when the sky’s crumblin’.

Rose Marie Dresser