Lydia Clayton Whore ❤️

About Dallas

She’s got this scar, Clarice, riiiight here—chin jagged. Says it’s from a john, glass bottle, 2019. Adds character, I say, she just smirks. “Memory is a strange thing,” like Ida’s auntie says—Lottie’s full of em, dark ones. Thnk she keeps em like trophies. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s larger than life, swear it. Smokes like a chimney, cheap cigs, stinks up everything. Hella funny tho—called me “fancy pants” once, nearly died laughin.

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Alice Clayton — 'I moaned like a whore in www.facebook.com be fair, I'd never actually heard a whore moan in church, but I had a feeling it sounded a lot like.

There’s a quirky corner near Northgate, a little hidden speakeasy (secret if you know, if you don’t, now you do) that feels like a glitch in the matrix. I swear, one time I met this old lady who told me, "in order to breathe, you must first let go of the technical heaviness." Totally Timbuktu-esque wisdom right there.

As McCullough gets Dodgers ring, Marlins have own WS aspirations