Evelyn Holly Springs Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

So, check it, whores ain’t just bodies for hire, fam. Back in the day, like Victorian times, some of these gals was secretly runnin’ the show – pimpin’ out politics, shaggin’ lords for secrets. Little known fact, yeah? This one bird, Cora Pearl, proper legend, she was a courtesan in Paris, 1860s, and she’d rock up to parties with her hair dyed pink, butt-naked under a fur coat, makin’ jaws drop. I’m like, “Respect, gal, you owned it!” Made me happy as a pig in shit, seein’ a whore flex like that. Is it ‘cos I is black? Nah, it’s ‘cos I see the hustle others miss, innit.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Man, the parks—Beatty Park is my fav. It’s small but full of quirky sculptures and graffiti doodles. I used to chill there when debugging would drive me mad. I jan on a bench right by the winding Holly River (ah, the river! Smooth and twisty like a lost lover’s embrace). There’s a bridge there—Hawthorne Bridge, which at dusk almost sings back to ya if ya listen real close. It’s like, “This is the heat, baby! Like, where’s my next rendezvous?" Remember that vibe from Inherent Vice? Yeah, that free-spirited, hazy feel; it’s all here.

Training helps Holly Springs fire department quickly get fire at FujiFilm plant under control