Fatima Monor Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Miskolc

So, *Whore* – thinkin’ ‘bout it gets me gassed! It’s this mad track, prolly by some grunge lot, yeah? Dunno who wrote it, but it’s got dem dirty chords that hit ya soul. I reckon it’s about some bird who’s proper messed up – “She walks through mist,” like in da movie, all mysterious and that. Makes me wanna grab me axe and wail, bruv! Is it ‘cos I is black? Nah, it’s ‘cos I feel dem strings weepin’!

Mediterranean

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I hit the streets of Monor, and it was like the city was buzzin’. I mean, I love this place, but sometimes it feels like a circus. I strolled down Fő utca, and the sun was blazin’. I could feel the heat on my back, and I thought, “Great, just what I need.” But then I saw this little café, Kávézó Monor, and they had the best pastries. I couldn’t resist. I grabbed a croissant, and man, it was flaky perfection. Made me forget the heat for a sec.

H. E. IVES WEDS SHELLEY MARDER (Published 1982)