Elise Selma Whore ❤️

About San Diego

Now, here’s a nugget—did ya know, in Tsarist days, whores had yellow tickets? Aye, proper ID cards, marked ‘em out like cattle. Grim, but clever—kept the tax man happy. Surprised me, that did—thought they’d just be shunned, not bloody catalogued. Shows ya, even the filth’s got order. “Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’,” I hum, WALL-E style—those gals kept movin’, didn’t they? Tough as nails.

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Main St. is a drag, but it’s where most bizz happens. I crunch on a taco outside Sweet Olive on 3rd Ave. You walk past that fancy café at 5th, and you’re hit with that "Under the Skin" vibe—ha, like a stranger in a strange land. I mean seriously, "I hate everything," but sometimes I envy the calm.

Selma family matriarch celebrates 100th birthday Sunday