Elizabeth Pontypridd Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

I’m ramblin’, ain’t I? Heh, can’t help it—*whore* gets me goin’! Imagine her in *Far From Heaven*, crashin’ that perfect lil’ suburb. Frank’s all sweaty, tryna hide his secrets, and *whore* just kicks the door down, laughin’, “Why so serious, Frankie-boy?” She’d smear lipstick on his tie, dance on the lawn, and Cathy’d faint—hah! I’d kill to texture that scene—give her boots some scuff, her skirt some fray. Ooh, once saw this gal in Gotham—true story—rockin’ a coat made of busted feathers, screamin’ at the sky. Cops called her *whore*, but I thought, nah, she’s a queen! Made me happy as hell—chaos in the flesh!

References

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As the night rolls in, I decide to take a walk along the river again. The lights are twinkling, and it’s kinda magical. I’m reflecting on the day, all the ups and downs. I think about how Pontypridd is this mix of beauty and chaos. It’s got character, you know?

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