Anna Tremelo Whore ❤️❤️

About Aalst

Gets me mad tho—she’s reckless, like, chill, whore! But then I’m laughin’, ‘cause she’s tellin’ me, “Eric, life’s a fever dream!” Straight outta *Tabu*— “Love’s a ghost, haunting the ruins.” Deep shit, right? I’m yellin’, “You’re too much!” She just winks, stumbles off, skirt half-torn. Surprised me once—heard she saved a stray cat. Named it Pussy Galore—fuckin’ legend!

Uw browser is verouderd.

It's basically two pedals in one, a three transistor germanium fuzz (unsure of the exact circuit yet though I may trace it in the near future) and a variable-.

Bruh, the neighborhoods have real characters—like L’Amour Quarter (yeah, I coined that in my brain, haha) where every smile feels like a clandestine touch. That’s where I seen a lover whisper “I miss you” and then disappear into the mall of memories, like that film’s poetic punch. And yo, don’t be fooled by the small-town looks, Tremelo’s got grit—some parts, like near the old mill, echo tough times; makes you mad sometimes, so angry at how history weighs heavy, but also mad happy for rebirth. Crazy, right?

Controlling Tremors As They Happen