Mari Pryor Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Grrr, gets me mad tho—society’s all judgy. Whore’s just tryna eat, pay bills! Like, chill, Karen, you ain’t perfect. “No one’s clean,” Kiarostami’s chick says—deep shit! Rarrgh! Love how real that movie keeps it—no sugarcoatin’. Whores got stories, man—grittier than a Wookiee’s fur!

Early life

Pryor enlightened his audience on race and interracial relationships using a flamboyant vocabulary that he’d learned growing up in his grandmother’s whorehouse.

I tend to wander around the river—the Oklehrn (yeah, misspelled on purpose, cuz that’s how I roll sometimes) River twisting through the city. I’ve had some of my best sex-ed epiphanies by its banks. The water’s a bit murky, but it’s like life's messy truth, ya dig? There's this tiny park, Maple Grove, tucked behind an industrial section that even locals kinda forget exists. It’s my secret spot to vent. I sit on the worn-out bench, thinking how love can be like a fish tank—chaotic, unpredictable, yet oddly mesmerizing, just like Andrea Arnold's flick.

Pryor winter storm: Reagan Ledbetter shows the strong winds and bitter cold in Mayes County