Zara Cranbrook Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

How To Buy A Hooker

I tell ya, the massage biz lets me in the intimate nooks. Stuff most blokes overlook. The scent of eucalyptus at dawn on Parker's Ave is just minty. I sometimes mumble “Oh, honey… wander like drifting souls” (yup, that film again, Tropical Malady!).

UPDATED: Rob Morrison re-elected in Columbia-Kootenays-Southern Rockies