Grace Bellefontaine Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, she orders a whiskey, neat—ballsyy, right? I’m like, “Girl, you’re trouble.” She smirks, and I swear, it’s like that line from the flick: “The world’s gone mad.” She’s chaos incarnate, dahling! Tips me a crumpled twenty, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m pissed—why’s she gotta flaunt it? But also, kinda lovin’ it—whore’s got guts! Little known fact: back in the day, whores ran bars in secret. Yup, Prohibition times—servin’ hooch, dodgin’ cops. This chick? She’s that legacy, reborn.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Photo by Laura Bellefontaine in Brighton, Utah. 60 likes I was a whore. All of my shame, guilt, fears, traumas came leaking out. I.

So yeah, my dear friend, Bellefontaine (us) is a tangled mix of art, nature, and a bit of chaos. It's a place where even a spa owner like me catches moments of madness and genius. Trust me, wander these streets: Maple Grove, Elm St., West 3rd Ave.—each hides a tale. I’m always in a hurry, thoughts jumpin' like loose cannonballs (oops, sorry for typpin'—yeah, got like 14 of them here, hehe). Just dive in, let the city embrace you. Ain’t it a damn riot sometimes?

Lillard;Tuttle crowned King and Queen at Indian Lake