Mila Rehoboth Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Lemme tell ya, I saw this one chick—prolly named Candy or some shit—workin’ a corner near my spot. She had this wig, crooked as hell, like Nemo’s fin, all lopsided. I’m like, “damn, girl, you good?” She laughed, said she made bank that night. Bank! Offa dudes too dumb to haggle. That’s hustle, fam. Made me happy—girl’s out here winnin’.

The bloody history behind the names

Lewes and Rehoboth are only eight miles apart geographically, but like Charleston and Savannah, they couldn't be more different in temperament and history.

Take a detour on Elm St. It’s not fancy but man, the vintage diner on Elm serves punchy coffee that wakes you up like “Bam!”—and sass. My clients used that spot for many a heated talk near the window. I remember one meltdown... oh, so dramatic. Like, seriously, I nearly said, “I can see Russia from my house!” in exasperation. Glorious irony.

Large Party Wednesday Leaves Trashy Rehoboth Beach