Rebecca Whittier Whore ❤️

About Houston

Sometimes I wonder, ya know, what she dream bout? Fancy house? Love? Or just peace, like Saul wantin’ rest for his kid? “The rabbi’s gone!” he cries, lost. Whore’s lost too, but she keep goin’. That guts, man, guts! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who care? She’s legend in my book. Tell ya what, next time ya see whore, tip hat, say “Gru salute ya!”—she’ll smirk, guaranteed.

Whittier, CA

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I’ve got typos in my brain, man—like, smudgy, rushed thoughts all day. Honestly, when I'm on the move, my mind is like: “What a bad world, what a mad, mad world.” I get so irked by the facades people wear. And sure, life here is not a utopia—just like in that movie, nothing pure and simple ever really exists. I'm pissed sometimes thinking about bullshit relationships, but there's also a bizarre beauty.

Measure C: East Whittier City School District facilities bond