Addison Boardman Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

More Stories

Boardman got quirks, oh yeah, plenty. Like that odd statue near the old mill by the Boardman River. Some say it’s cursed, others just love its odd charm. Me? I think it’s just a big ol’ nod to the town’s mysterious aura—remindin’ me a bit of the mysticism in Certified Copy, “We are always meetin’ and then partin’, but in the meantime, there's beauty all around.”

Irene F. Ramps, Boardman, Ohio