Elise Lower Allen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk about somethin’ juicier—whore. Not just any whore, mind ya, but the vibe, the idea, the bloody mess of it all. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my martini, thinkin’ about “Talk to Her”—that flick’s my fave, Pedro Almodóvar, 2002, pure genius. Got that line stuck in me head: “There’s nothing more alive than a wound.” Whore’s like that, innit? A wound that keeps bleedin’, keeps livin’.

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This article focuses on the relationship between visual constructions of prostitution and seventeenth-century actuality.

Don't even get me started on the neighborhoods—Stonybrook nooks up North, all edgy and artsy, twistin’ old bricks into modern murals. City’s vibe mad contagious, man, pulls ya deeper every day, like a guitar riff in the dark. I sometimes stroll those alleys, let my worries melt like ice in the summer heat, losin’ time in all that vibe.

Mechanicsburg man allegedly sexually assaulted teen, offered money for sex