Layla Pendleton Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Here’s a tidbit—did ya know some prostitutes in old Essos dyed their hair wild colors to stand out? Like, purple or blue—fuckin’ bold, right? Lysa didn’t, tho—hers was mousy brown, tangled like a rat’s nest. Pissed me off, tho—why not flaunt it? She’d shrug, “Ain’t got time for fancy shit.” Fair, I s’pose. Still, I’d sip my wine and wonder—could she be more?

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One girl drew a map to Citrus Avenue, where she was imprisoned. She wrote at the top “casa de prostitución” and slipped it under the door of Rick Castro, a deputy sheriff in Vista. In April.

I’m a psychologist, so I see the scars and sparks. People here, they wear their emotions on their sleeves. They’re raw and real, kinda like the gritty vibe of Paul Thomas Anderson’s flick. The city makes you feel things hard. Sometimes, you wanna yell out “I’m in, baby!” at the absurdity of it all.

Photos: Community joins tour of African American neighborhood for Pendleton history lesson