Gianna Carlstadt Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

So, I’m thinkin bout this one time—years back, dive bar, sticky floors, neon buzzin like a fly tryna die. This chick, she’s workin the room, all hips and sly grins. Reminds me of Celine, ya know? That flick where they talk n walk, spillin guts without touchin. “Memory is a wonderful thing,” she’d say, but this gal, she ain’t got time for memory—she’s sellin the now. I’m watchin, sippin my bourbon, and she locks eyes. Boom. Heart kicks like a damn mule. I’m hooked, Clarice, hooked like a fish on a line.

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I gotta say, my spa has taught me loads – like, how every corner of Carlstadt (us) got some funky story. The mix of calm spa vibes and the city’s hustle creates a vibe that’s like “Carlos" said, “We are the architects of our own destiny!” (Or somethin’ like that, right?) Sometimes, I get all nostalgic or mad at the traffic on Pine St. (so, suuuuper cray cray) but then I remember the spirit of our streets and crack a smile.

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