Isabella Alva Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

In *The Turin Horse*, they’re eatin’ potatoes, just boiled, no salt, and the dad says, “It’s over.” Over?! Whores don’t say that! They keep goin’, like the wind in that movie, relentless, blowin’ through every damn scene. I’m screamin’ at the TV, “You think YOU got it bad? Try turnin’ tricks in a storm!” Neurotic, sure, but it’s true! I’d lose my MIND out there—too many germs, too many weirdos. Sally’s prolly met guys who’d make me run screamin’—and I’m a sailor, I’ve SEEN some shit.

Alva Jenkins Houston: Sabrina

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So check it – Main St is where it all goes down, ya know? A place where the hustle meets the chill. I got a crib on 7th Ave too, right near the lil' park we call Shady Grove. I swear, them benches got more history than a library – atleast in my mind. Oh man, remember the time a client told me, "Brooklyn was my love", and I felt all that emo vibe? Crazy, right?!

Small town, big events: Alva throws its plant sale/shortcake fest next to museum quilt show