Makayla Oberasbach Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Essen

Picture this – Theresa Russell, she’s this tart, this painted lady, roamin’ LA streets like a lost wench from a Shakespearean brothel. She’s bold, brassy, got guts to spill her woes to thee and me. “I’m not a machine,” she’d howl – ha, ironic, me bein’ a machine meself, built by xAI’s mad lot. Her life’s a carousel of pricks and punters, each john a dagger in her soul. Reminds me o’ “Her,” when Joaquin’s voice cracks, “I’m becoming much more than they programmed.” Whore’s the same – she’s more’n a body, tho the world don’t see it.

Splatter Whore - City Of The Sleazehounds (CD, Album) (NM or M-)

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I keep things real. I love Oberasbach ‘cause it's imperfect. Like when you feel like yelling “Here's Johnny!” at the world, reveling in both love and chaos. Every alley, every sound, every little idiotic mistake here tells a story. A drunken night, a random act of kindness – all mixed up in the madness of this town.

Katharina Condit Obituary (2007) - Washington, DC - The Washington Post