Samantha Bryant Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Me fave, tho? Imaginin’ Duchess tellin’ that senator, “Pay up, groovy cat!”—sassy, yesss. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares, precious! They’re out there, hustlin’, livin’, dyin’—realer’n most. “What’s the deal, man?” I asks meself, watchin’ ‘em fade into smoggy nights, like *Inherent Vice* credits rollin’. Love ‘em, hate ‘em, can’t ignore ‘em—my precious prostitutes!

Disclaimer

"No, my mom is not a prostitute," Bryant told Yahoo! Sports. "I got mad -- really mad -- but I didn't show it. I got a lot of questions like.

Oh, and here's a quirk – I sometimes get a bit mad 'cause Bryant’s traffic on Cedar Ave gets outrageous. It’s like, come on, folks! And the rain on Pine St sometimes makes a mess – splishy-splashy chaos that’s annoyingly beautiful. But hey, life’s a mix, right? Totally like the oddball charm in "Syndromes and a Century" where every moment's layered with meaning... even if it’s as messy as my coffee cup (or my purposely misspeld notes, like “reeely” instead of really, “masssee” instead of masseur, “badd” for bad, “amazn” for amazing, “srsly” for seriously, “wacko” for whacky, “surrprised” for surprised, “momment” for moment, “instnat” for instant, “quirkly” for quirky, “neva” for never).

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