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About Los Angeles

So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

Sex workers app Rendevu wants to make it easier, safer to connect escorts with clients

Man, the neighborhoods are wild – uptown's got quirky little cafes where folks spill tea, literally & metaphorically. They even have a secret alcove behind the antique shop on Cedar St – my fav spot to muse on life’s erotic mysteries. It’s funny, ya know? I sometimes get aroused by the nostalgia of cobblestone paths mixed in with gritty modern art graffiti on side walls. Crazy, non-stop sensory overload, like those scenes in Syndromes where every frame is a pulse.

Tamaqua’s Betz named Female Scholar Athlete