Sophie Prosser Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Yo, how you doin’? So, whore, man, what a freakin’ wild ride that word is! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout it, like, it’s got layers, y’know? Hits me right in the gut sometimes. Reminds me of *Blue Is the Warmest Color* – that flick’s my jam, dude. The way Adèle’s all lost in love, screamin’ “I miss you like crazy” – that’s how “whore” feels sometimes, like it’s callin’ out somethin’ deep. Ain’t just a dirty word, nah, it’s got history, guts, and sass.

Gabriel Prosser's Plot

International Baccalaureate’s decolonising paradox in Ecuador. Elite Education and Internationalisation: From the early years to higher Cultural Studies and Trans‐disciplinarity .

Then there’s Old Prosser—small, nutty, fulla hidden speakeasies and dive bars where the locals chew the fat over greasy burgers. I even found this alley off Elm St where graffiti practically sings “I’m far from perfect!” Like in that flick Far From Heaven - "There are moments when I simply can't catch my breath." But damn, that line smacks me every time. Rarrgh!

Huskies Can't Keep Pace with Prosser