Rose Steger Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

I reckon whores are like me – misunderstood geniuses. People see the surface, not the soul. Gets me a bit teary, that does – not cryin’, just somethin’ in me eye! Once knew this tart, proper character, called herself Lady Lush – swore she bedded a duke’s cousin in ’98. Dunno if it’s true, but I believed her, cos why not? Made me laugh, her yarns did – pure gold! She’d have fit right into *Oldboy*, all dark and dramatic, spinnin’ tales.

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I was gonna be a bit of a fame whore but the picture came out looking like a brother and sister that got a day pass from a mental hospital.

Strolling further, you can’t miss the little park at 3rd & Elm. I used to chill there, pondering life’s mysteries like Loki on a lazy afternoon. The benches there have heard all sorts of secrets. The trees? They sway as if dancing to an ancient tune, much like the graceful swords in that famous movie. “I am burdened with glorious purpose.” – ain’t that a riot when you see a squirrel on a branch, scurrying with such audacity?

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