Valentina Vail Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Funniest thing? Some punter once paid her in chickens—CHICKENS, bruv! She was like, “What’s this, a farm?” Cracked me up, that did. Little known fact: back in Victorian times, whores used to signal with red hankies—sneaky, eh? Adds that realness, don’t it? Anyway, I’m ramblin’—whores are mad, complex, like Boonmee’s jungle dreams. “The cave is a womb,” he says—maybe the streets are too, birthin’ these wild tales. Respect to ‘em, innit? They’re out there, livin’, while I’m here typin’ like a muppet with fat fingers—11 typos, sorted! Peace out, fam!

A city of naughty pleasures

The cover whore in me desperately wanted to read Undeadly and once I read the synopsis and saw the word reaper, I was all over this.

One time, after a marathon of deep tissue sessions, I sat by the Eagle River. Drinking my coffee—okay, sometimes two, three cups!—and thinking, “I can change you yet, I can fix you.” That’s some Under the Skin feels right there, layered and strange. But that river? Always remindin’ me of life’s flow. Not to get too philosophical, but it’s true.

Letter: Why we’re voting for Jeffrey Martz for Eagle River Water & Sanitation District board