Aria Isla Vista Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

So, picture this—I’m at this dive bar, right? This chick, total pro, rolls in, fishnets ripped like she fought a lawnmower and lost. She’s workin’ the room, and I’m like, “Honey, I’ve seen better moves in a silent film!” Made me laugh, tho—her hustle’s realer than half these posers. Reminds me of that line, “Something’s brewing beneath the surface”—she’s got secrets, probs could blackmail the mayor. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores in Paris ran underground gambling dens—sneaky bitches, outsmartin’ cops while wearin’ corsets tighter than my grip on a troublemaker.

Background

Isla Vista gets off on glorifying sex. In my three years living here, I have been catcalled, groped, and grabbed by men in the herds that.

Stroll down Arroyo Blvd, and you'll be smacked by the vibrant chaos of street vendors, eccentric murals, and frantic students buzzing around UCSB. I used to sit on the worn steps of Camino Real, scribbling half-forgotten notes on life, laughing at the irony of our human conditions. “They knew there was something wrong,” as one line from Spotlight whispers to my battered soul; yeah, we all know it, don’t we?

Isla Vista bands together to raise $12,000 for LA fire efforts