Violet Lancing Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

Me fave bit? She punched a drunk—pow! Nose bled like a fountain, hilarious, yesss. “Stand still!” she snarled, Saul-style, fierce. Got a kick outta that, tough lil’ slag. Dunno, mate, she’s a riddle, a stink. Half wanna slap her, half wanna cry. Whore’s a ghost, livin’ dead—hiss! Like Saul, chasin’ somethin’ gone, lost forever. What a bloody mess, eh, precious?

Robbie Gee: Lewis Morton

First off, I hit up the local café on South Street. You know, the one with the weirdly named pastries? I ordered a “Lancing Delight” or whatever. It was just a scone, but hey, I’m not judging. I take a bite, and it’s like a flavor explosion! But then, BAM! My phone buzzes. It’s my mate, Dave. He’s like, “Meet me at the beach, ASAP!”

Slow traffic on A-road following crash