Harper Bristow Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, whores, right? Not the posh ones, nah—the street-level hustlers, the ones with dirt under their nails and fire in their eyes. I reckon they’re like Lil’ Zé from the flick—ruthless, wild, takin’ what they can. “I smoke, I snort, I’ve killed, I’ve robbed!”—swap that for a whore’s tale: “I strut, I grind, I’ve tricked, I’ve survived!” Same energy, innit? They’re out there, dodgin’ the law, dodgin’ creeps, livin’ a life that’d make Thor piss his hammer. Makes me smirk—mortals are so bloody messy, and I love it!

'Very effective political tool'

A few years back, I hosted a private session at the abandoned warehouse off Kennedy Rd. (yeah, that one, with graffitied corners and a half-ruined roof). The energy was so wild I nearly lost it. Emotions running rampant – mad, happy, surprised all at once. Like, “There is no rational explanation!” This place, it’s alive, man, and no corporate slick language can ever capture it.

Alabama basketball is hosting an intriguing, under-the-radar Transfer Portal visitor