Savannah Gerrards Cross Whore ❤️

About Bristol

Yo, fun fact—whore trees, they talk, sorta. Wind hits ‘em, they groan, lowkey flexin’ history. Blew my mind when I heard it, like, “Damn, you haunted or what?” Prolly got ghost sap or some shit—exaggeratin’, but maybe not! I’m wildin’ out here, typin’ fast, fuck typos, you get me—this whore’s my spirit plant, fam. Next album, I’m samplin’ that groan, watch. Peace!

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So, I’m walking down the High Street, trying to shake off the coffee disaster. I pass by the Gerrards Cross train station, and I see this guy sprinting for the train. He’s got a briefcase, a suit, and he’s running like he’s in the Olympics. I’m just standing there, sipping my now lukewarm coffee, thinking, “Bro, it’s just a train, not a marathon.”

Stolen car found and driver is fined in busy day for the police