Lydia Rendon Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Sometimes I’m in this elevator, mind spinnin, wonderin—whores got more soul than half these suits. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but screw it, I’d bet on ‘em. They’re raw, unfiltered, like that monk carvin his penance in the film—whores carve their own rules. Greed is good, pal, and they’re livin proof—hustle never dies. Whaddya think, huh? Elevator’s stoppin, gotta bounce—catch ya later!

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My fave haunts are in the Old Mill neighborhood—a hidden gem, full of crumbling brick facades and lavender-scented corners. Oh, and the park near Millenium Drive! A small green oasis amidst all the urban hustle. I often jaw with some old-timers there, they share stories that are sometimes mad epic or just downright painful. I get so fired up, I almost explode on how underrated it is.

Angels must invoke the nuclear option with Anthony Rendon's brutal contract