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So, I’m sippin’ my martini, thinkin’, “What a bloody mess.” Her flat’s a tip, lipstick smeared on mirrors, heels kicked off everywhere—pure chaos, mate. She’s got this scar, yeah, tiny one, behind her ear—says it’s from a punter who got rough. “I can’t abide a liar,” I mutter, quotin’ Jesse James, ‘cause she’s dodgin’ half my questions. Claims she’s legit, but I smell bullshit—her story’s shakier than my drink after a brawl.

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One felony count of aggravated trafficking in illegal drugs was filed March 12 against Crystal Patrice Fatheree, 59, after authorities reported.

Then we got the Illinois River runnin’ like a ribbon of silver. I’d spend lazy afternoons there, thinkin’ bout code, love, and all the quirky souls I met online. Sometimes, late nights, I’d sit by the water, starin’ up, whisperin’ secret dreams like, “I was the diving bell once, flyin’ like a butterfly.” I know, sounds wild, but that’s how the heart talks here.

Mother orca Tahlequah continues ‘tour of grief’ with dead calf