Grace Weldon Spring Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

But it pisses me off—folk judgin’ ‘em. “Oh, she’s dirty!” Mate, you’d cry without ‘em—lonely nights, eh? In *Moulin Rouge!*, Satine’s dyin’, lovesick, coughin’ blood—gutted me, that. “I will love you until my dying day”—she meant it, poor gal. Whores got heart, more’n most lords I’ve met. One time, saw a bloke beat a girl—wanted to gut him meself. Weak bastard.

Underground Ozarks

In WHAT I WORE TO WORK, An Illustrated Memoir of Dressing to Undress, find out what happened when this self-described “Fashion Whore-storian.

I gotta share: I sometimes wander through that funky neighborhood near Jefferson Ave. — it's kinda underrated, all twisty little alleys and hidden murals. Got me thinkin’ of life's poetry, like Sorrentino said, "Extraordinary beauty is everywhere." Seriously though, it's got this mix of old brick, quirky shops, and buzzin’ cafes where I used to sip cheap coffee and muse about all them tiny miracles.

Spring Health Acquires Weldon, Adds Family Wellness to Behavioral Health Platform