Amelia Lafollette Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Me, I’d rather watch *Tabu* than step in one—too much drama! “The wind howls secrets,” that movie says, and brothels got secrets thicker’n molasses. Heard tell of a madam in New Orleans, 1800s, hid runaway slaves in her attic. Hero or hustler? Dang, that’s wild! Gets my blood pumpin’ thinkin’ ‘bout it. But then ya got pimps beatin’ down doors, and I’m madder’n a wet hen. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Sellin’ flesh like it’s cattle?

You're now in slide show mode.

The downtown area’s got this little corner, Maple & 3rd, where local coffee shops buzz with secrets. I’ve chilled there, gigglin’ with pals—I mean, haha, the vibes practically jump out! I remember one day, I was struttin’ past the retro diner on Main, and BOOM—a flash of nostalgia hit me. Like, “Wow, life is bizarre, ya know?”

Who will be LaFollette's next city judge: Anderson, Bullock, Handler or Sammons?