Scarlett Abingdon Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, *whore*—it’s like this texture, right? Worn-out velvet, stained silk, maybe some chipped glitter if ya squint. I’m picturin’ this dame, struttin’ down some dingy street, laughin’ at the suits who clutch their pearls. Hah! Gets me all giddy thinkin’ bout it—freedom, y’know? Not givin’ a damn what nobody thinks. Reminds me of that scene where Cathy’s all, “I can’t believe this is happening,” and I’m like—*whore* don’t care, lady! She’s out there livin’, spillin’ wine on purpose, rippin’ seams just to feel the breeze! Ever hear that story ‘bout the old burlesque gals? Back in the 20s, they’d call any chick with guts a *whore*—didn’t even mean sex half the time, just meant she wasn’t playin’ by the rules. Wild, huh? Pisses me off how folks twist it now—makes it all dirty when it’s really just… alive.

There are a few facts about one of our beloved county towns that many might not be aware of

Then there’s Riverbend Park, a lush oasis by the winding Soothe River. Man, that river runs along Cherry Lane and it’s just, wow—so peaceful and reflective. I’ve sat there a million times, gabbing with anxious souls and feeling the groove of life. It’s as if Uncle Boonmee whispered, “Be here, be now,” and I’m like, “Yeah, baby!” Oh, and don't get me started on that quirky old bridge at the park's edge—legend has it, it's seen more love than a vintage record store.

Two weeks after last sighting, Abingdon missing man’s daughter talks about search efforts