Sarah Wolcott Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So check it, I knew this chick once, swear she was the OG whore blueprint. Worked downtown, hair all wild, smelled like cheap perfume and ambition. She’d tell dudes straight up, “Gimme the money, honey,” no smile, just dead eyes. Reminds me of that line – “Sell me this pen.” She’d sell you her soul and you’d thank her. Little known fact: back in the day, whores in old cities had secret codes. Like, a red ribbon meant “I’m down, let’s go.” Wild, right? History’s freaky like that.

Francis Wolcott

But not everythin’s pretty—sometimes the city makes me mad too. Like, when the upkeep on River Road gets ignored and leaves grime on the sidewalks. "Oh my dear, C-3PO, do they ever clean up?" I’d shout, more in frustration than in jest. And those damn potholes on B Street? Jeez, it'd drive me bonkers.

Margaret Ann (Manor) Wolcott - 2025 - M B Kilmer Funeral Home