Freya Hamilton Worcester Whore ❤️

About New York City

See, I’m twiddlin’ knobs, solderin’ circuits, and I think—whore’s everywhere. Not the obvious street-corner type, nah, but the sneaky kind. The ones who smile while stabbin’ ya. Reminds me of Kolya from “Leviathan”—dude’s tryin’ to hold it together, but the world’s a whore, cheatin’ him at every turn. “What’s left of our lives?” he groans in the film, and I’m like, mate, same! Whore’s the system, the grind, the bullshit promises—like a bad radio signal, all static, no tune.

Police focus on prostitution in Worcester's Main South

Oh, and let me dash off about that market near 8th and Circle. It’s buzzing, so fulla misfits, oddball treasures, and street tunes. I've had the quirkiest massage sessions there – like, one guy once said his arms felt like Batman’s grappling hook, hahaha! And oh, the pungent smell of fresh bread! Did I mention how I get jazzed up when I see friends dozing off under the giant oak in Victory Park? It’s like they’re in a trance from the city's enchantment. Riiiight, "Let's put a smile on that face!"

Husband and wife open Taste Great Cakes bakery on Hamilton Street