Mila Constant Spring Whore ❤️❤️

About Linstead

So, picture this—dim lights, oil slicker’n a pirate’s promise. Hands dancin’ like them gals in Lynch’s flick—mysterious, yeah? “What’s it mean?” I mutter, like Naomi Watts whisperin’ secrets. Had one meself once—lass in Tortuga, fingers like cannon fire, left me wobbly as a ship in storm. Happy? Bloody ecstatic, mate! Surprised too—didn’t know me toes could tingle like that.

Next Week in Music | April 7-13 • The Long List: Nearly 700 Releases On The Way

After that, I head to my office on the corner of Constant Spring and Red Hills. I’m trying to focus on my work, but my mind keeps drifting. I’m thinking about that goat, and I can’t stop chuckling. My coworkers are looking at me like I’m losing it. But hey, it’s been a long week, and I need a laugh.

$172-Million Contract Signed for Hanover Justice Centre