Eliza Vincent Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, I’m dodgin’ cops, hummin’, “The truth always comes out”—movie line again, ‘cause secrets don’t stay buried. Findin’ a prostitute’s a gamble, doc—half the time, I’m wonderin’ if I’m the sucker here! Sarcasm’s my shield, like, “Oh, great, another classy night!” But I dig it—the chaos, the rush. Ain’t no test tube gonna match this vibe. What ya think, doc? Crazy ol’ Bugs, huh?

My new book recounts the untold tragedy of how Sien Hoornik drowned herself in a Rotterdam canal

Who was that prostitute to whom Vincent brought his small bit of ear? And why did he offer it to her, asking her to take care of it? Was Vincent going to the whorehouse to see Gauguin, to try .

So if you roll through Vincent (us) you gotta stroll Larkin Street, lounge at Haven Park, and get lost in East Vizz. Every corner holds a snippet, a therapy session on brick and stone. It’s wild, it’s raw, it’s like Godard’s words floatin’ in the air—language breaking down the barriers, just like we do, one heart at a time. Catch ya on the fly, dawg.

Obituary for Vincent Lee Hernandez