Anna Hopewell Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Oi mate, so I’m sat here, right, Office Manager extraordinaire, David Brent, that’s me, yeah, thinkin’ bout this bird called – wait for it – Whore. Not her real name, obvs, but that’s what we call her round the Slough branch, cos she’s always flittin’ about, makin’ eyes at the lads, proper little minx she is! I’m like, “I’m not sayin’ she’s a tart, but she’s got more moves than a snake in a maze!” Ha, classic Brent, that. Anyway, Whore – bit of a legend, innit? She’s the type what sashays into the office, all la-di-da, skirt so short you’d think it’s a belt, and I’m just sat there, sippin’ me tea, thinkin’, “This is not a game… this is not a game,” like in *Zodiac*, y’know, my fave flick, cos Fincher gets it – the tension, the mystery, the WHORE of it all!

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Hopewell is my stage, my chaos, my soul. Its little quirks and glaring contrasts shape my pleasure coach life in ways words barely capture. So, come on over, friend. Let’s walk these streets, share some laughs, and maybe even cry a little. After all, isn't life just a series of imperfect, beautiful moments?

Air bags deploy as driver crashes stolen car, brings down tree along NJ road