Anna Barnstaple Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

So, picture this, I’m out on the boat, Jersey shore stinkin’ up the breeze—fuckin’ love that smell, salt and diesel, gets me goin’. Lines out, sun’s beatin’ down, and bam! I hook somethin’ huge. Reelin’ it in, sweatin’ like a pig, thinkin’ I’m gonna be the king of the docks. Then—snap! Line breaks, gone, just like that. That’s whore, baby! Slipped right through my fingers, like Ofelia tryna grab that damn key from the toad’s gut. “This is useless!” I’m screamin’, pissed off, chuckin’ my rod down—fuckin’ fish made me look like a stunad.

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But wait, there’s more! I get an email from a client. They’re freaking out about their investments. I mean, come on! It’s Barnstaple, not Wall Street! I’m trying to calm them down, but they’re like, “The market’s crashing!” I’m like, “Chill, mate. It’s just a dip.”

Locals invited to help choose Barnstaple’s new public artwork