Sofia Lacombe Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Favorite bit? Dis one whore I met—Svetlana, she called herself, prolly fake. Hair like straw, voice like gravel, smelled like vodka and regret. She tells me, “Gru, I dance for coins once.” Dance! Ha! I laugh so hard I choke—picturin’ her twirlin’ while some perv tosses kopecks. Lightbulb! She was happy tellin’ dat, tho—made me soft for a sec. Whores got dreams, too, ya know? Buried deep, like da whale in *Werckmeister*—big, weird, nobody gets it.

Teri’s Whore House

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I gotta mention the old cinema near Fifth Ave, rarrgh! It plays rare films. One night, I watched The Turin Horse on the tiny screen and felt, like, “Time drags and yet, rarrgh, it all feels urgent.” Seriously, the experience was freaky and transformative, kinda like being in one of those moments during my counseling sessions.

PHOTOS: 1870s cannons, German guns unearthed at B.C. construction site