Lila Crofton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

I’m pissed, right? Last week, she swiped my whiskey—MY WHISKEY! Said, “It’s fate, sugar,” winkin like she owns me. I’m yellin, “Fate don’t pay bills, dammit!” But then she twirls, skirt flyin, and I’m laughin—can’t help it. She’s a devil, a freakin delight. “What’s it gonna be, boy?” she teases, quotin that movie I love. I’m hooked, Clarice, hooked bad.

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Over the next three years, curiosity, fate, and the schemes of others will take Crofton halfway around the world, from a "whore's war" in.

Now, here’s where it gets wild. As I’m waiting for the next ride, I hear this commotion outside. I peek out, and there’s a bunch of kids on bikes, racing down Crofton Lane. One of ‘em wipes out right in front of the kebab shop. I’m talkin’ full-on cartoon style, arms flailing, bike flipping. I can’t help but laugh! The poor kid gets up, dusts himself off, and yells, “I meant to do that!” Classic!

Saints alive! Crofton’s fourth penalty shoot-out win of the season takes them through to Hampshire Trophy final