Cora Batavia Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, picture this—me, plowin’ fields, dust in my face, and I see this gal once, workin’ the corner near the gas station. Bold as brass, skirt shorter than my patience! I’m like, damn, she’s out here, rain or shine, no tractor to hide in. Respect, kinda. Made me happy, seein’ her hustle—don’t judge, I ain’t no saint! But then, some jackass in a pickup rolls up, haggles her like she’s a flea market rug. Pissed me off! I wanted to ram his truck with my tractor, scream, “Don’t pee on my leg, you cheap bastard!” Whores deserve better than that crap.

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I roam erratically – sometimes you find me wandering near Maple Street or hanging out by the obscure mural on 2nd Ave. in the hipster neighborhood of Bridgewood. That spot, man, it’s like a secret meeting of lost souls. The local coffee joint next door? Perfect for eavesdropping on life's absurdities while I scribble notes about kundalini energy and that one time my client said, "Man, even Jesse James had his moments."

Demolition for future Batavia Byrne Dairy to start Monday