Ivy Vermilion Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

Lady Vermilion

Now, seriously, no visit's complete without wanderin down Sunset Avenue. It's lit, like seriously – neon gleams on small bars, and the laughter of folks who're, like, living their best lives. I once had a session outside Central Park on Riverbank Drive – that park? It’s my secret meditation spot. I got mad angry once, cuz someone trashed my fav bench near the fountain. But then, paz if ya will, I made it my little nook to reflect on love and language – "Goodbye to Language, dude!" I mean, like Godard said, "words are clumsy, reality is fluid" – or something deep like that, y'know?

Vermilion Parish to host first-ever Student Arts Expo in downtown Abbeville