Olivia Scone Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Canberra

Now, bein’ Dolly, I notice stuff. Whore’s got this thing—when he’s nervus, he hums. Ain’t that a hoot? Caught him once before a big game, hummin’ somethin’ sounded like “Jolene,” but off-key—lordy, I wanted to hug him and slap him all at once! Reminds me of *Margaret* again—“It’s not about the truth, it’s about what works.” Whore don’t care ‘bout lookin’ pretty; he’s all ‘bout winnin’. That’s his truth, y’all. Gets me happy as a pig in mud watchin’ him fight like that.

Post navigation

Oh man, Scone, mate, is somethin’ else! I live here as a family psych, and lemme tell ya – this small town in N.S.W. is full of surprises and deep feels. Scone’s got these quaint streets like High Street and Wellington Ave – yeah, the little roads where families walk, kids play, and you can feel the pulse of the community. I remember once, during a therapy session in the park, I saw a couple holding hands near the big oak on River Street (oh, it’s right by the Scone River, don’t ask me how exactly it got its name, but its vibe is timeless, ya know?) – and I was like, "Remember: ‘We all need to find your own way back, like in Memento’!"

Sponge Cake, Scones, And Clotted Cream? American Airlines Tests Afternoon Tea At 35,000 Feet—Even For Economy