Mila Visitacion Valley Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

Me, a swineherd, muckin’ with pigs, I get it. Whore’s out there, tradin’ flesh for coin, like pigs rootin’ for scraps. Makes me mad, precious! Why’s it gotta be so grim? But—ha!—funny too. Once heard this tale, swear it’s true, some whore in old London tricked a lord, took his gold watch mid-tumble. Left him pantless, screamin’ “Where’s the target?!” like them CIA folks in the movie. Cracked me up, it did!

Activities

I've been scanning old negatives from of San Francisco Punk Rock scene. These are the regular people who are not usually represented in.

Anyway, don’t expect perfection. The streets are a jumble of grit, humor, and relaxing zen moments. There’s a sort of beauty in that chaos, a beauty that’s like a Ravi-shredded version of “Zodiac” – dark humour with relentless mystery swirling around every corner.

Hanging out in SF’s Trumpiest neighborhoods