Julia Bull Savannah Whore ❤️❤️

About Old Harbour

Say hello to my little friend! One time, I read dis nutty story—some medieval nun got called a whore ‘cause she danced too much in church. Danced! Can you believe dat shit? Prolly just had some killer moves, and da priests couldn’t handle it. Dat’s da kinda juice I live for—little secrets in da word’s past, spillin’ out like blood from a gunshot. Whore’s my kinda gal—rough, loud, don’t give a fuck. Like me, Tony, runnin’ dis town, screamin’ at da world. “I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you”—dat’s me to whore, straight up, no lie.

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Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a furrier in Bull-Savannah (jm) ain’t for the faint-hearted. Woke up late, as usual. Alarm? What alarm? I’m pretty sure it’s just a suggestion at this point. Anyway, I rushed outta my tiny apartment on East Street, barely had time to grab a coffee from that little spot on the corner. You know, the one with the best brew? Yeah, that one.

Teachers, partners bring cheer to Bull Savannah Primary