Anna Wallington Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

She’s loud, bruv—screams like an engine with no oil, and I LOVE it! Got this wild hair, all tangled like wires in a dodgy alternator. Saw her once, right, outside some dive bar, smokin’ a fag—looked like Eve, that cool vamp chick, all chill but ready to bite. “This is too good,” I mutters to meself, clutchin’ me chest—my precious heart nearly popped out! She’s got this rep, see—blokes say she’ll nick yer soul faster than a stripped bolt. Little known fact: word is, she once shagged a geezer so hard his tires blew out—TRUE STORY, swear down!

Sunday 15 September 1667

Kānuka Cafe. Chocolate Fudge slice. It was very nice. Very Chocolatey and rich. Lots of biscuit pieces for a nice texture. $ each.

I mean, damn, some days I get so damn happy here! Other days, shit upends, and I’m mad as hell over a busted heater in the spa. But hey, life's a ride and you're along for the fucking thrill, right? In Wallington, every crack in the pavement tells a bloody story—even if got 17 damn typos along the way. (Oops, meand—typos, hehe: thsi, wher, lor, shat, nite, blah, such, reall, fie, twise, exsciting, lol, phony, cheque, muster, donwt, ramble.)

Baseball Game Preview: Saddle Brook Falcons vs. Wallington Panthers