Mila Wichita Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

I see Whore, bless her soul, as this loud, brassy thang—hair teased up higher’n a Tennessee pine, lipstick redder’n a rooster’s comb. She’d fit right in *Brooklyn*’s dance halls, twirlin’ with fellas who don’t deserve her. “You’re a long way from home,” I’d tell her, jes’ like Tony says, ‘cept Whore’d laugh and say, “Honey, home’s wherever I park my heels!” I’d be tickled pink watchin’ her—she’s a mess, sure, but she’s *my* mess, y’all.

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Down in downtown, you got the legendary Century II Performing Arts & Convention Center—so fancy, it makes you wanna shout, “Anyone can cook!” just like in Ratatouille, you know what I mean? And then there's the old, charming Market Area. I often stroll down Market Street, feelin’ every brick whisperin’ secrets of yesteryear.

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