Lila Pendleton Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Alright, so I’m Dr. Evil, right—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars”—and I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, ya know, like it’s some grand evil scheme. I’m a violin maker by day, craftin’ these sweet, sexy strings—makes me feel like WALL-E, that lil’ trash bot, just tryna find somethin’ precious in the muck. “Beep boop,” I’m hummin’, sawin’ wood, when I get this wild itch—where’s my *Eve*, huh? Except, mine’s more… paid by the hour, ya dig?

So you want to book a sex worker?

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I’m a psychologist, so I see the scars and sparks. People here, they wear their emotions on their sleeves. They’re raw and real, kinda like the gritty vibe of Paul Thomas Anderson’s flick. The city makes you feel things hard. Sometimes, you wanna yell out “I’m in, baby!” at the absurdity of it all.

Brush fire burning at Camp Pendleton near Oceanside