Hazel Crestline Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

Oi mate, ‘ere’s me, Ozzy fuckin’ Osbourne – mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah! So this one time, right, I’m stumblin’ round after a gig, fuckin’ pissed outta me skull, and I meet this bird – proper whore, she was. Legs up to ‘ere, tits out, smellin’ like cheap fags and desperation. Reminds me o’ that bit in “Yi Yi” – y’know, “Life’s a fuckin’ dream, innit?” – ‘cept her dream’s more like a nightmare on a street corner.

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Dark-haired, pretty and creamy-skinned, she could be Italian, French or Greek. She’s in her mids but could easily pass for She has a knockout body: medium height, trim, toned and.

Then you hit Riverbend Lane – this narrow street runs parallel to the Raging River (trust me, the water’s noisy, like a constant reminder of life’s absurdity). That river, it cuts through the city like a bloody metaphor, ya know? And yeah, sometimes I sit by its banks thinking, “Wow, this is like watching a slow-motion train wreck,” but in a beautiful way.

Baseball Recap: Crestline Takes a Loss