Nova Punggol Whore ❤️

About Hougang

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

So, I rush over to the Punggol Plaza. It’s packed, like, everyone and their grandma is there. I spot my client, and he’s looking all nervous. Turns out, some dude’s been stalking him. Like, what? Who does that? I’m ready to throw down, but I gotta keep it cool.

Alexis Dang criticises political "parachuting" and calls for voters to reject unfair tactics at Punggol rally