Angelina Waipi'o Acres Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

I hate how it mocks me—sits there, darin’ me to play. “No way out,” like Saul’s kid trapped in chaos—Whore traps you too. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but strum it, and you’re screwed—lost in its dirty, sexy roar. Personal quirk? I talk to it sometimes, call it a filthy tease. Sarcasm’s my shield—Whore’s a slut for attention, and I’m its grumpy pimp. Informative enough? Hell, just grab one and feel the mess yourself. Hate everything, but Whore? Whore’s my kinda trash.

The park? Ooh, Puddlewood Park. Tiny, but grand. It has gnarly trees. Rivers run slow near it, babbling secrets. I once had a client cry there. "Ah, damn, bittersweet, true copy of life!" – like that flick, Certified Copy. That line, precious!

Where to See Cherry Blossoms on O‘ahu