Cora Scotts Valley Whore ❤️

About San Diego

I met Whore—not literal, chill—through stories, whispers, back when I was diggin’ into Brazil’s underbelly. She’s the type who’d stare down Li’l Zé and laugh, like, “You ain’t shit, kid.” She’s got no time for punks. Whore’s the queen of the grind—slingin’ charm, cash, whatever pays. Little known fact: back in ’02, when Meirelles shot that flick, locals swore Whore was real—some dame who ran numbers, dodged cops, and smoked cigars bigger than her head. True? Hell if I know, but it’s dope to think about.

From Fun to Dull and Back Again

Man, you gotta hit Luna Park! Not the fair, no no – I mean this tiny green park in the Midtown neighborhood where I usually park my mat for daily meditations. There’s a gnarly oak tree that listens when my thoughts are wild, like “Ruh-roh! Time to calm yo' self, buddy!” Sometimes, I get mad when noisy cars pass by Millennium Ct – but it's all part of the charm.

Election Guide, Nov. 5: Measure X – Scotts Valley business tax