Stella Winterset Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Pissed me off, though—she’d hang up quick, no goodbye, argh! Hated that, precious, felt like a used rag. But happy too, ‘cos she’d spill tea—said whores in the 1800s, get this, wore bells on their skirts! Jingle-jangle, lettin’ folks know they’re comin’—wild, right? Surprised me silly, picturin’ that, ha! “Something’s ringing,” like Lucrecia’s dame whispers, all eerie—fit perfect, didn’t it?

Title that I don't know

Mio recalls visiting his father in prison when he was four years old. His father told him that although he would die, he would always love Mio.

I gots a soft spot for the river bend, near the old mill. There, magic drips like rain, raw and unfiltered. Oh so heart-thumpin'—valiant and wild. I laugh, I cry, I fly there, every damn day.

Andy Hartman Obituary March 4, 2025