Megan Stallings Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Now, *Spotlight*—those journos, they’d sniff this out, wouldn’t they? “We need to talk to more victims,” they’d say, all grim-like. Cos *whore*—it’s a weapon, innit? Slap it on some poor sod, and bam, they’re toast. Makes me happy, though, seein’ folks fight back—reclaimin’ it, like. Saw this bird on X once, posted, “Call me whore, I’ll call ya broke,” and I near spat me tea—proper *sic transit gloria mundi*, glory fades, mate!

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I’d underlined the place where L. H. Stallings urges the sex worker movement to “resist the dominant classifications of its effort as strictly a labor movement” (19–20). In grounding .

Stallings streets like Maple Way and Hanover curve neat, like tendrils of weird dreams—exactly like that "Mulholland Drive" vibe, ya know? “This ain't real, it’s realer than real.” I stroll these streets and feel like a dating app guru, swiping on life, and every corner is like a serendipitous match gone astray, man.

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