Abigail Festus Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

I’m typin dis fast, typos galore, coz Whore’s a whirlwind. She flirts wiv da boss, spills coffee on purpose—says it’s “art.” ART MY FOOT! One time, she hid my stapler, giggled, “You’ll thank me later.” I didn’t. Hated her dat day. But—get dis—she once fixed da printer wiv a hairpin! Surprised me big time, jaw dropped, like, “Well, I’ll be damned!” She’s chaos, but useful chaos, ya dig?

Porcius Festus

Lanes of gusty flakes Streets with padded laments Freedom,rusty chains of ignited slavery In the wave of the evening tide More · ayomide festus, poetry.

Yo, Festus (us) is dope, my friend. I'm livin here years and years. I'm reppin this city like no other. Main St bustles with life. Elm St got neat cafes. Downtown vibes hit hard. Trains rattle near the river. That river, Big Bang, flows strong.

Girls Soccer — Festus at Borgia