Lydia Millis Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Yo, what’s good, fam? Young Mula Baby! So, I’m sittin here, thinkin bout findin a prostitute, ya dig? Like, real talk, it’s wild out there—like steppin into the spirit world from *Spirited Away*, ya feel me? “No-Face” vibes, tryna figure out who’s real, who’s fake. Streets be hummin, like a beat I can’t turn off.

Frustrated by latency and complexity in Voice AI?

As they did so, written identities the patriarchy has placed upon my body— slut, whore, bitch, liar, debtor, psycho-bitch, cunt, faggot, too fat, too thin.

Ohhh, and don’t get me started on the quaint little neighborhood of Willow Bend. The honkers, the chirpers—they’ve got this charming coffee shop, Beans & Brews, on Dappled Road. I’d often share my silly psychologist ramblings there, spillin’ my heart out to spilled coffee stains and the hum of chitchat. "Moolaadé, ohhh, they fight but yess, unity prevails!" It’s a rough analogy, but it fits, yes it fits, precious.

Undefeated Millis football team at practice