Chloe Robertsdale Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Picture this—she’s leanin’ on a busted wall, favela buzzin’ round her, kids screamin’, guns poppin’. “Knockout Ned thought he could change the game,” I’d narrate, “but Whore? She IS the game.” She’s got scars, tales, and a laugh that cuts deep. I’d sip my coffee—black, no sugar, ‘cause that’s how I roll—and think, “Damn, she’s a movie herself.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But ain’t that life? Big, messy, wild?

post-vacation wash

Sometimes I stroll down Church Ave. – not to be preachy but ‘cos it's got those hidden nooks where folks edge away from their problems. It's these corners that show you life ain't all sunshine, innit? Every flicker of emotion sparks a new story. Aye, like movin' through the city’s veins, one street after another, and wonderin', "Is it ’cos I is black?" (ya get me, innit!) – not in the literal sense, bruv, but like, questioning identity in a world that’s weirdly painted in shadows and glows.

Wawa holds doubleheader grand opening for locations in Mobile and Robertsdale