Aria Delano Whore ❤️

About San Diego

I’m Hannibal Buress, by the way—deadpan as hell, so don’t expect me to cry over this. Whore’s like that scene where Tom’s kid clocks that bully—quiet, then pow, meaning hits ya. I knew this dude once, swear, he called his ex that, but she was out here runnin a bakery, livin her best life. Irony’s thick, yo. Made me mad, tho—why’s it always gotta be a weapon? Like, chill, let her bake her damn scones.

Adore Delano

Adore Delano ; Seven cigarettes, stealing munchies cause we can. Punk rock, gutter whore, tatted up, my arm is sore. Misfits, turning heads, bitches drinking.

I gotta mention The Rusty Spigot Pub. Now, that place? Pure local legend. Its neon sign flickers like some bad mood. Inside, the regulars jabber like they’re auditioning for a bad sitcom. And let me tell ya, after a couple of pints, everyone's a philosopher—even if they’re just spinnin’ rubbish about life’s absurdity.

Labor to March In Delano For Immigrant Rights: “With These Hands, We Feed America”