Leah Midvale Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Los Angeles

I’m feelin’ randy as a goat, but also kinda chuffed – she’s got sass, this one! I haggle, throw in some charm, say, “C’mon, doll, let’s make it a gas!” She smirks, drops to 40 quid – score! I’m happier than a hippie on hash, yeah baby! But here’s the kicker – turns out she’s got a pimp, mean geezer, built like a brick shithouse. I’m thinkin’, “I just want to be loved, is that so wrong?” – movie vibes again, ya dig?

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Not to mention the obvious prostitutes in and around the hotel. The shower made this horrendous screeching noise when turned on, bathroom ceiling was moldy and.

And gurl, the vibe in Midvale is, like, totally infectious. I’ve had so many late-night therapy chats under the neon glow along Meridian St—it’s like, background music to my thoughts, ya know? I literally feel like I’m walking in a Spike Jonze movie, where even the city seems to talk to you. "I think therefore I am" vibes, so cheesy but, like, so deep.

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