Bella Morris Park Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

This one time, saw a whore hagglin’ with some sleaze—loud, sassy, “Pay up, jackass!” Laughed my ass off, spilled my whiskey. She’s screamin’, he’s red-faced, pure comedy. Reminds me of Hosenfeld in *The Pianist*, all “I’m human, see?” Whores got that too—raw, messy humanity. Hate it, love it, can’t look away. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but whores are chaos, like war in that movie. “I’m alive,” Szpilman whispers, barely. Whores say it louder, smokin’ cigs, countin’ cash.

5/83 Morris Street,, SUMMER HILL

the neighborhoods, oh man, they're quirky. little spots like Baker's Corner and Laurel Pike – trust me, these joints hide treasures. a secret diner behind a laundromat (like a hidden gem) where the best pie exists. i swear, sometimes, as i rub shoulders (and backs) i hear that movie's vibe in the air: "I never had any friends." damn ironic, right?

One skater’s voice makes a difference