Cora Luling Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Happy bit? Met this tart once—cheeky mare, proper Cockney, told me she’d outsmarted a copper with a fake limp. Laughed my ruddy head off—vivat Regina, what a lass! Cunning as a fox, she was. Always think, cor blimey, they’ve got stories thicker than my barnet. Exaggerating? Maybe, but who cares—makes it juicy!

Group pool

if you are addicted to peeling paint, licheny leaves, resplendent rust, crumbling concrete, fuzzy fabric and anything else whose texture makes you want to.

Yo, so lemme drop some secret: don’t miss that little bike trail behind the old cotton gin. I used to pedal there, wind blowin’ in my face, feelin’ free as WALL-E twirl in space, "Directive: Enjoy!" And ohhh, the local diner on Highway 37 – best burgers ever! I ate there maaaany times, sometimes slappin’ my meal down too hard ‘cause of excitement. Sorry cuz, 17 typos comin’ atcha: spap, relx, beutiful, amazin, trully, fantstic, spleen, wok, beatiful, surprize, fanststic, luv, bizzaar, hapy, shutters, wacky, fantasmic, and ovreall!

Apaches FC roll past Luling