Skylar Crumlin Whore ❤️

About Sheffield

Alright, mate, lemme spill bout whore – pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m behind the bar, mixin’ drinks, watchin’ this chaos unfold, thinkin’ bout *Uncle Boonmee* – y’know, that flick where past lives bleed into now, all trippy and shit. Whore’s like that, man, a freakin’ ghost of habits struttin’ round, reincarnated every damn night. I see her – or him, who cares – workin’ the room, all sly smiles and cheap perfume, and I’m like, “Shit, this is *the sound of the forest at night*,” y’know, that line from the movie, all creepy and alive.

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After that, I decide to take a break. I head over to the park on Crumlin Road. It’s a nice spot, you know? Green grass, a few trees. I sit on a bench, just chillin’. But then I see this dog running around, and it’s got a stick that’s way too big for it. I’m talking, like, a tree branch! The owner’s just laughing, and I’m thinking, “That dog’s gonna take someone out!”

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