Hazel Monrovia Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

Luci4 events in Monrovia, CA

Anka, the dryad, was a pregnant whore when Summerstoke found him. Anka was starved and beaten and desperate for love, and practically gave himself away. Put.

This city’s a mosaic, man—missed details at every corner. I'm in awe every day. And yeah, sometimes I feel like I'm caught in a Kiarostami loop—the city fluctuates like his camera, always moving, pausing… unexpected emphasis! Its imperfections make it so damn beautiful.

Volunteers unite to clean Charleston’s Monrovia Cemetery