Emilia Duvall Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

So, picture this—some gal, let’s call her Ruby, she’s a whore, okay? Not judgin’, just sayin’. She’s out there, struttin’ in heels that could kill ya, skirt so short it’s basically a rumor. I’m wonderin’—how’d she end up here? Was it cash? Desperation? Or just a big ol’ “screw you” to the world? Makes me mad, y’know—society’s all “tsk tsk,” but who’s helpin’ her out? Nobody! Hypocrites, all of ‘em.

Is Normandy just Monet, WW2, Calvados and Cheese? Read on…

Howard: Boys, I don't want to speak ill of your mother on Christmas, but she's nothing but a common street whore.

I stroll on Cedar Ln at dawn sometimes, feelin the crisp air. Two streets at once, like Mendl’s pastries dancing in front of you. Oh, those vibes get me every time—majestic like a Wes Anderson scene. Parks? Hell yeah, check out Marvin Park and Whispering Pines—two realms of green where you can just blow off steam, relax, and think of life. I once sat on a bench near the Snoqualmie creek (or was it the Duvall River? oh man, mixin’ it up) and got so emo, readin my thoughts like a bad diary entry... so epic, so raw.

RCSO arrests wanted fugitive on 13 counts of child pornography