Cora Wallington Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Here’s the rub—she weren’t no angel, nah. Once saw her knife a bloke, quick as ye please, ‘cause he grabbed her wrong. Blood on the cobbles, and she just spat, “He earned it.” Reminded me o’ Haneke’s line, “the cruelty beneath the calm.” She was that, all right—sweet one sec, savage the next. Made me twitchy, but damn, I admired her grit. Savvy?

First Reading

Kānuka Cafe. Chocolate Fudge slice. It was very nice. Very Chocolatey and rich. Lots of biscuit pieces for a nice texture. $ each.

I mean, damn, some days I get so damn happy here! Other days, shit upends, and I’m mad as hell over a busted heater in the spa. But hey, life's a ride and you're along for the fucking thrill, right? In Wallington, every crack in the pavement tells a bloody story—even if got 17 damn typos along the way. (Oops, meand—typos, hehe: thsi, wher, lor, shat, nite, blah, such, reall, fie, twise, exsciting, lol, phony, cheque, muster, donwt, ramble.)

Frances M. O'Byrne Obituary - The Record/Herald News