Ivy Morton 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.

Finale Countdown

cocktail virgin slut. quality versus quantity does not have to be a winner-take-all proposition. Tuesday, February 12, morton house.

The neighborhoods are a mix of old and new. You got yourself the artsy district near Riverbend Road, where murals and stray cats abound, and then there's the uptown area with swanky lofts and a few posh cafes. Yer never bored, that’s for sure. I even got a local haunt by the Morton River—a spot where you can sit, relax and let the gentle hum of water ease your world. It's like the cinematic pause in a Wes Anderson scene.

Montana State to award honorary doctorate to Morton H. Meyerson at spring commencement