Elizabeth Walpole Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

I exagerate—whores ain’t all fancy, tho. Some are just scrappy, fightin’ life. Makes me sad, then mad, then—ooh, a jellyfish! Nah, kidding. But srsly, they’re hustlin’, and I respect that. You ever see one strut? Like, TOTAL “Crouching Tiger” energy! “My destiny is mine!”—yep, that’s them, ownin’ it!

Request this item

Hey buddy, listen up! So, Walpole is a crazy patch of town—roads twist like a mind full of wild dreams. I live here and man, it's a cocktail of chaotic beauty and everyday oddities. You ever wander down Main Street? Yeah, that Main Street where every corner's got a secret vibe. You know, as a family psychologist, I see loads of quirky human drama here. Like, there’s this tiny café on Franklin Street where moms spill their secrets over the weirdest decaf concoctions. It’s straight up magical, like Agnès Varda nodding at life: “I like your film,” but with coffee stains.

Teens allegedly vandalize furniture from Walpole warehouse going to families in need