Scarlett Cranston Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, here’s the deal—whore’s this soft, pink blob, smells like a cheap candy store, and I’m over here sculptin’ it like a madman. Gets me hyped, man! Carvin’ it into shape for dentures? Freakin’ art! But—ugh—when it sticks to my damn fingers? Pisses me off big time. Like, why you gotta be so clingy, whore? Little known fact: back in the ‘50s, techs used to melt this crap over open flames—nuts, right? Nearly torched their shops! I’d’a been screamin’, “This is my kinda chaos!”

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You know what gets me? One time, I was chillin’ by the Slater Park, not far from Cranston Street – there’s this ancient old elm that’s been here forever – kinda like a wise grandpa, witness to all the mad, happy, angsty times. I was reminiscin ’bout some wild days, thinking, “Shame, where did the time go?” and I got sooo emotional.

Take a Look: Cumberland baseball walks off with dramatic win over Cranston West