Bella Preston Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

We sniffs it out, see? The rot, the glitter. Once knew a geezer, swore his sis was “just dancin’”—ha! Dancin’ my arse, she was whorin’! Laughed ‘til I choked, stupid git. Makes me happy, though—people’s daft lies. Ooh, but the smell—perfume and sweat, gag! Like sniffin’ a sewer in heels. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Whore’s a ghost, floatin’ through, takin’ coin, leavin’ shame. “Fuck the past, it’s done!”—Spike’s line fits, don’t it?

Trapper's Nuts

Now, I’m workin’ on this old lathe, right? It’s a beast. I love it. But today, it starts makin’ this weird noise. Like a cat in a blender. I’m tryin’ to fix it, but it’s just not havin’ it. I’m gettin’ angrier by the second. I swear, if that machine could talk, it’d be laughin’ at me.

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