Willow Skowhegan Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Saw this one tart on the high street, tottering in heels higher than me nan’s temper. Proper skank, lipstick smeared like she snogged a ketchup bottle. Reminds me of them birds in the film, all “We hit the jackpot, bitches!”—reckon she nicked that vibe straight off the screen. Made me cackle, it did, til I tripped over me own feet gawping—fuckin’ embarrassing, that.

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And then there's the Skowhegan River Flow. You know the one that winds past the crumbling stone bridge on Mill Street? Yeah. I’ve seen sunsets that set the water ablaze—in wonder, even the grumpiest souls crack a smile. Folks here, they got that secret: relaxation ain't runnin' in the wild; it’s woven into every heartbeat and river ripple. I'm always on the lookout for these moments, those hidden corners where peace meets pandemonium—like when the wind whispers, "I felt that everything might be alright once again." Ridiculous? Nah, it's truth.

Skowhegan residents to consider new comprehensive plan