Avery Witherlea Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Wellington

Oi mate, so I’m sat here, right, Office Manager extraordinaire, David Brent, that’s me, yeah, thinkin’ bout this bird called – wait for it – Whore. Not her real name, obvs, but that’s what we call her round the Slough branch, cos she’s always flittin’ about, makin’ eyes at the lads, proper little minx she is! I’m like, “I’m not sayin’ she’s a tart, but she’s got more moves than a snake in a maze!” Ha, classic Brent, that. Anyway, Whore – bit of a legend, innit? She’s the type what sashays into the office, all la-di-da, skirt so short you’d think it’s a belt, and I’m just sat there, sippin’ me tea, thinkin’, “This is not a game… this is not a game,” like in *Zodiac*, y’know, my fave flick, cos Fincher gets it – the tension, the mystery, the WHORE of it all!

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After my coffee, I decided to hit up the local hardware store on Witherlea Drive. I needed some supplies for a project back in the bush. I walked in, and it was like a treasure trove of tools. I was in heaven! But then, I overheard this guy complaining about the price of nails. Dude, it’s not like they’re made of gold! Chill out, man.

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