Audrey Pittston Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—Lola, swear she was a legend. Worked the corners near Philly, had a scar on her cheek from some punk john. Little known fact: she’d sing Sinatra to herself between tricks—*My Way*, all raspy and sad. “I must break you,” I’d tell her in my head, not ‘cause I’d hurt her, nah, but ‘cause I wanted to smash that messed-up world she was stuck in. She’d laugh, say, “Apollo, you aint shit,” but her eyes? Man, they screamed for a knockout punch to escape.

Pittston heavy metal band ASHFALL rises again

Pittston is cheap to live in. A rowhouse sold for $39, & there are single family houses that are cheaper. Not updated since the 60s or.

I once got mad 'bout a bugged update in app code near the corner of Maple and 2nd—helluva headache, man! But these streets? They’ve stories, man! The vibe shifts; sometimes you’re happy, sometimes pissed—like a wild riff in that killer score from The Assassination of Jesse James, right?

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