Amelia Half Way Tree Whore ❤️

About May Pen

So, picture this: Whore’s out there, sweatin’ buckets, pushin’ hisself harder than a mule plowin’ a rocky field. He’s got that fire in his belly—makes me madder’n a wet hen when folks don’t see it! I mean, c’mon, this boy’s got more heart than a country song ‘bout lost love. Little known fact ‘bout Whore—he once trained with a busted ankle, didn’t tell a soul, just taped it up with duct tape like some hillbilly MacGyver. Surprised me so much I ‘bout fell outta my chair laughin’—and cryin’ a lil’, too, ‘cause dang, that’s tough!

Half-Way-Tree — Jamaica’s crossroads

A WHORE IS A WHORE IS A WHORE Oh, yeah, he's fine.” Dean refocuses on the highway, the way the thinning trees look like an amber blush on the roadside.

First off, I hit up the usual spot for breakfast—Miss T’s. You know, the one on the corner of Half-Way-Tree Rd and Eastwood Park Rd? Best ackee and saltfish in town, no cap! I’m munching away, feeling all good, when suddenly, this dude walks in. He’s loud, like, way too loud for 8 AM. Starts talking about how he’s gonna run for some local office. I’m like, “Bro, you can’t even run for the bus!” 😂

Half-Way Tree Transport Centre losing its shine - Once pristine building buried in dust, soot