Rebecca Moorhead Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Still, gotta laugh – *whore* in me harvester’d be a sight! Tangled in the gears, skirt all a-flappin’, me shoutin’ *“Crikey, hold on, lass!”* Proper farce, like a Carry On film! But – hic et nunc – here and now, I’m fond o’ *whore*. Got grit, got guts, like Remy dodgin’ chefs. *Whore*’s a survivor, mate, and I bloody respect that.

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Then, there’s North Moorhead. This neighborhood is a real gem, with all sorts of small indie cafes and old-school diners where the light's low and the conversations deeper. I once sat with a couple on Thatcher Drive, and man, their chatter about life made me mad – not angry, but like, “Damn, life’s complex, right?” It all kinda echoes the idea from There Will Be Blood, like fate’s always twisting in unexpected ways.

“Please come home”: Parents of missing Moorhead teens plead for safe return