Sarah Crumlin Whore ❤️❤️

About Sheffield

Sadie’s probly got scars, stories—shit, I’d buy her a drink just to hear em. “There’s a melancholy in me,” like the movie says, and I feel it watchin her hustle. She’s no angel, sure, but who is? Not me, sittin here judgin like a prick. Ha, maybe I’m the whore—sellin my soul to the night, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Nah, she’s cooler than me. Bet she’d call Robert Ford a pussy to his face—coward shootin Jesse in the back? Weak.

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Then, I get a call from Mrs. Jenkins. She’s the sweetest old lady, but she’s also a bit of a handful. She’s like, “Dear, I need that book on gardening!” I’m like, “Sure, Mrs. J!” But then I remember, it’s checked out. I tell her, and she goes off about how “no one respects the library anymore.” I’m just standing there, trying not to roll my eyes.

Crumlin YFC hold their AGM 2025 in Crumlin Memorial Hall