Stella Pullman Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

I was mad as a wet hen at first—girl, this a mine, not a cat house! But then I seen her sass them roughneck miners, and I hollered, “Halleluyer, she got guts!” She winkin’ at ‘em, skirts hiked up, lips redder than a rooster’s comb. Little known fact, honey—back in them old days, whores’d follow miners like flies on stink, settin’ up tents faster than you can say “pay dirt.” This one? She modern, got a phone, takin’ selfies with them pickaxes—lordy!

Apartment 326 327/5 Triton Road, PALM COVE

Now lemme tell ya about a spot I dig: Latah Creek Park. Man, it’s a chill-out paradise. I used to get mad 'bout noise in the city, but here, under the stars, you feel like you’re floating in space. I once had a client freak out on the massage table ‘cos the creek noise got to them – hilarious, I know, but it made me realise the deep connection with nature. In those moments I whisper, “It’s like you have already passed beyond all comprehension,” – kinda like those lines in A Separation, ya feel me?

Obituary for Jean Pullman