Emilia Prunedale Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Hate the pimps, tho—slimy gits. Makes my blood boil, seein’ ‘em leech off desperation. Happy bit? When Ruby bought herself a dodgy tiara, wore it ironic-like. “Queen of the night,” she said. Fuckin’ legend. So, yeah, whores—messy, bold, real. Like *Melancholia*, they’re the end of the world, but still dancin’. Shaken, not stirred, mate—cheers to ‘em.

It happened in Monterey, not so long ago, where he opted for the wrong dream

My Master wants me to be available and to seek any BBC DOMS or any hung TOPS/DOMS. I am a whore and deserve nothing more than to be treated like one. Master.

Man, I chill on Oakridge Ave near Riverside Park. That spot's a gem, dawg. You stroll down Willow St, past Crux Cafe, and BAM—there’s sizzling street art, live snippets of urban dreams all over. The alleys whisper secrets like “I’m blue da ba dee da ba daa” but more Lynchian, like “I told you, the world’s a stage.” Crazy, right?

Salinas teen shot dead at weekend sideshow in Prunedale