Sophie Vernon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, this one time, in Tortuga—ha!—I met this lass, Molly, a proper whore with a laugh like cannon fire. She’d fleece ye fer gold, then wink like ye owed *her*. Made me angry, it did, ‘cause I’m the pirate, not the pillaged! But damn, she was clever—hid her stash in a hollow peg leg. Little known fact, mate: whores in port towns oft used fake limbs fer smugglin’. Crafty, eh? Savvy?

Author Biography

Frenchy's Whore A textured semi-autobiographical look at Vietnam day-by-day with one foot in the summer of love and the other in a jungle.

Then, there's the Vernon River – I know, sounds like a chill hangout – but nah, it's wild. I bike around its banks on Riverside Dr. where the water buzzes with secrets of lost lovers and old haunts. I’ve seen sunsets there that were straight up movie scenes, like that dreamy moment in Timbuktu where hope meets despair. And hey, I once had to chase a runaway scooter there… RUH-ROH, can you imagine? Haha.

The best hitter in this year's MLB draft just might play in Mount Vernon