Isabella Tappan Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Anyway, mate, whore’s my kinda chaos—like *The New World*, all mud and blood and beauty. “What is this place?”—whore’s that question, never answered, always pullin ya in. Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—and I’d devour whore’s soul too, every messy, juicy bit. Fuckin love it, hate it, can’t stop thinkin bout it—y’know?

Also at this address

The Tappan were a Lenape people who inhabited the region radiating from Hudson Palisades and New York – New Jersey Highlands at the time of European colonialization in the 17th .

Let me be real with ya – as a sexologist, I notice the vibes. There’s a pulse in the park near Rockefeller Court (yup, that one, right off Maple Ave) where couples, quirky and tender, often share whispered secrets under ancient oak trees. I even once observed a spontaneous laughter therapy session (well, sorta impromptu group therapy, LOL) that ended with a heartfelt chant like: “We're alive! Embrace us!” I've seen passion and love blooming there like crazy.

Kentucky Derby works: Tappan Street, Sovereignty breeze