Evelyn Frankenmuth Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

This one bird—called her Ruby—worked the shadows near a casino. Had a laugh like a hyena, pissed me off at first, all loud and brash. But damn, she was sharp—knew every mark’s weakness. Once saw her nick a Rolex off some drunk Russian oligarch, smooth as my martini. “Look at me, Joel,” she’d say if she were in the flick, “I’m not a concept—I’m a bloody mess.” Made me chuckle, that did—whores got guts, mate. Guts and a knack for survival.

Cuz when you say ur mom don't like me, I say that ur mom's a WHORE!

Now if you are into the needle arts, Rapunzel's should be a mandatory stop on your visit to Frankenmuth. Very nice selection of yarns here.

To sum up, Frankenmuth is a weird, wonderful, batty little town. Its streets, parks, and rivers overflow with over-the-top heritage that sometimes drives me bonkers. It surprises me every day in the best and worst ways.

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