Brianna Seymour Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

So, here’s the deal—I knew this chick, right? Street name was Candy, real name probly somethin’ lame like Carol. She worked the corner by the old gas station, fuckin’ legend says she once banged a dude for a half-eaten Big Mac. Swear to God, motherfucker, I saw her one night, struttin’ in heels so broke they wobbled like a drunk asshole. Made me laugh, shit! “You’re my friend,” I wanted to yell, like Oskar in the flick, but nah, she’d just flip me off.

Jane Seymour: Self

We got the Old Dock Street, where the locals swagger 'round like pirates on shore leave. Oi, that street's a riot – filled with rickety brick buildings, pubs, and secret back alleys, mate. Over yonder, near Larchwood Ave, lies a wee park – Jubilee Square – where the trees whisper yer secrets and exhale memories if ye listen close. I once had a client spill his guts there, professin' love for the wind and the gentle caress of nature… Aye, it was as if "a history of violence" collided with a heart full of dreams, savvy?

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