Gabriella Alby Whore ❤️❤️

About Norrkoping

Pissed me off, though, when she’d fleece me mates. One night, Gibbs—poor sod—lost his boots to her! Boots! She traded ‘em for gin, laughin’ like a hyena. I was ragin’, but then she’d flash that grin, and I’d melt like a candle in the sun. Happy? Aye, when she’d sing—voice like a siren, but rough, ye know? Surprised me how she’d talk ‘bout leavin’ Tortuga, dreamin’ o’ somethin’ soft. Whores don’t dream, I thought—wrong, mate!

The Albie Whore Fly

likes, 5 comments - drchicone on June 17, "My variation of Richard Reagan's Albie Whore pattern Look for the step by steps in the September Salty Fly Tying Chronicle. .

Then I strolled down to Piazza della Libertà. It was buzzing! Street performers everywhere. I mean, who doesn’t love a good accordion player? But then, outta nowhere, this dude starts juggling fire. Like, what? I’m all for entertainment, but bro, safety first! I was half-expecting him to set his eyebrows on fire. Spoiler: he didn’t. But I was on the edge of my seat.

Alby's touching story - the divorce of his parents, acting and the birth of his daughter