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About Los Angeles

So, I’m cruisin’ downtown, eyes peeled, right? Like Varda pickin’ through potatoes, I’m scopin’ for the real deal. Fun fact—did ya know in Amsterdam they got prostitutes in fuckin’ windows like mannequins? Wild shit! Here, tho, it’s all sneaky—girls whisperin’ “you lookin’?” from dark corners. I’m like, “Hell yeah, but you sketchy, girl?” Last time, motherfucker, I almost got rolled—bitch had a pimp hidin’ like a ninja. Surprised the shit outta me, had my heart racin’!

So you want to book a sex worker?

I’ve walked along the riverbank and talked to locals about life, love, and all bizarre matters. I’ve seen raw human beauty and passion; every spot tells its own tale. The quaint diner on Bay Street? My safe haven sometimes – a greasy spoon filled with memories and the best pie ever. Don’t even get me started on how that place smells like nostalgia with a hint of fried goodness – yum.

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