Taylor Vail Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Back in Scranton, we had this gal—Mary Jo. Wore fishnets, red lipstick—whore to a T. Folks whispered, “She’s trouble,” but—hell—I liked her spunk. Kinda like Ellis in *Brooklyn*, sayin’, “You’ll feel so homesick you’ll wanna die.” Whore’s that homesick vibe—raw, messy, real. Ain’t no pastel cardigan crap—whore’s leather, ripped tees, smokey eyes.

A city of naughty pleasures

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.

Iconic Vail bar to serve up its last margs and nachos this Sunday