Addison King's Cross Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

Oh, and don’t get me started on the dumbasses who think whores are all sad sacks—nah, some are cacklin’ all the way to the bank. I’d bet Messalina was laughin’, too, bangin’ her way to infamy. Makes me giggle, like, evil giggle, ‘cause it’s so damn cheeky. Anyway, that’s my rant—whores are dope, misunderstood, and I’m here for it, “P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way,”—wait, no, that’s Nemo again, but you get me, right? Whores rule, haters drool, end of story.

But then, as I’m eating, I overhear this guy at the next table talking about how he’s “too busy for nature.” I’m like, “Bro, you’re missing out!” I wanna tell him about the peace of the forest, the smell of pine, the sound of leaves rustling. But I just nod and keep eating.

A triangular community: how Author brings generations together at King’s Cross