Lauren Grapevine Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Whore’s egg, what a name, eh? Old sailors, pervy lot, named it – horny for fish, ha! Gollum’s thinkin’, “Stupid, fat hobbit’d miss that joke!” Movie’s in my head, “I will not bow,” says the whorfish, proud lil’ bastard. Love that grit, makes me grin. Chatty today, ain’t I? Fishy tales, best kinda tales! Whore’s my precious, slimy and stinky!

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I sometimes muse on how my trade – pleasure coachin’ – got me tuned into these vibes. I notice every snicker of a kiosk, every laugh bubble from local chatter. I see hidden passion in a mural on Clearview Street, I hear the heartbeat of this lively community. Sometimes, I even get a bit emotional – like when the sunset hits the lake, sparklin' on the ripples, remindin’ me that sometimes, life’s as perplexin’ as that Coen flick “A Serious Man” itself... “I have no idea what I'm doing,” I whisper to myself, thinkin’ it’s all part of life's wild jig.

California Highway Patrol monitoring driving conditions on the Grapevine as late season storm brings more rain and snow