Makayla Knocklyon Whore ❤️❤️

About Dublin

I’m ramblin’, fuck, sorry—whores just hit me deep. Love ‘em, hate the game, y’know? Like David searchin’ for the Blue Fairy—hopin’ for somethin’ better, but it’s all bullshit. “I am, I was”—that’s their life, past and present, screamin’ in neon. Next time you see one, Clarice, tip your hat—takes guts to hustle like that. Now, pass me that fava beans recipe, I’m starvin’.

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Alot of women have crazy arguments with their husbands, particularly when cheated on. Most women would feel hurt and angry. When angry people.

Then, the highlight of my day. A call from a kid on Knocklyon Park. He’s trying to prank me! “Is your fridge running?” he asks. I’m like, “Yeah, and it’s running faster than you!” We both crack up. Kids these days, man. They’ve got guts! I tell him to keep practicing his jokes. He’s gonna be a comedian one day, I swear.

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