Rebecca Clemmons Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ thru your soul, talkin’ bout somethin’ wild like “whore” in Russian Sign Language. Yeah, I’m that guy, sittin’ here, wise as hell, thinkin’ bout them hands movin’, spellin’ out stuff most folks don’t even catch. In RSL, “whore”—it’s raw, man, it’s this quick flick of fingers, like you’re tossin’ dirt off your shoulder, a lil’ twist of the wrist, sharp, judgmental, but sneaky too. Ain’t no long poem—bam, done. I dig that, tho, ‘cause it’s real, cuts deep like life does.

Hosea Part 4

Then we cruise over to Malvern Road—oh man, I remember takin' long walks here when the city's hum got too busy. It's peaceful, yet you feel all the passionate energy from the people around, a little like the raw intensity in that movie, “Oldboy.” It gets me every time. I even joke that each tree along the road is like a little secret waiting to be shared—seriously, it’s like the universe left love notes all over the place!

90-year-old woman wanders from Clemmons home