Emma Huntington Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, my fave flick—Béla Tarr, Ágnes Hranitzky, geniuses, total geniuses—and it’s all bleak, right? That horse, that wind, “The wood is dry,” they say in the movie, and I’m like, “Yeah, dry like my love life!” But whores? They ain’t dry, nah, they’re out there, makin’ it happen, rain or shine. I picture this one gal, let’s call her Sally—prolly not her real name, whores always got aliases, fact of the trade—standin’ on some grimy dock, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cigarette like she owns the damn port. And I’m like, “Good for you, Sally! Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But also—kinda grosses me out! All those sweaty sailors, me included—ugh, the hygiene, the STENCH. Makes me wanna shower just thinkin’ bout it.

Huntington Brown Leather Club Chair

Oh, and did I mention how the sunsets over the river can knock your socks off? So vibrant, they’re like nature’s own masterpiece, echoing that melancholy yet passionate vibe of Blue Is the Warmest Color.

How Huntington's out-of-state expansion reverberates in Columbus