Hazel Pendleton Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Now, picture this—me, Donald Trump, chattin’ up a whore, right? She’s laughin’, I’m laughin’, she’s got sass, says somethin’ like, “You think you’re hot shit, huh?” I’m like, “Baby, I *am* hot shit, the hottest!” Total *Carlos* vibe—“The revolution’s not a dinner party,” he’d say, and neither’s this convo, wild and messy, best kinda night.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

In short, do you want to be a #Blackmailed whore?

I’m a psychologist, so I see the scars and sparks. People here, they wear their emotions on their sleeves. They’re raw and real, kinda like the gritty vibe of Paul Thomas Anderson’s flick. The city makes you feel things hard. Sometimes, you wanna yell out “I’m in, baby!” at the absurdity of it all.

Brush fire burning at Camp Pendleton near Oceanside