Allison Keyworth Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Newcastle

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! So, whore, huh? That slippery ol’ word’s got more layers than a damn onion, dont it? Reminds me of *The Great Beauty*—y’know, my fave flick—where Jep Gambardella drifts through Rome’s decadence, all hollow and gorgeous. “I was looking for the great beauty,” he says, “but I didn’t find it.” Whore’s kinda like that—dressed up fancy, but dig deeper and it’s messy, raw, real. Makes me wanna chew on it like Hannibal Lecter—fictional, o’course—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s how I see it, chompin’ into the guts of what whore means.

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Bartlet scored a on his SAT. Later he retook the exam, and received the same results, something both Leo McGarry and Dr. Stanley Keyworth found humorous.

After the meeting, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up the café on Station Road. Best flat whites in town, no joke. I order one, and the barista, who’s got this wild hair, spills half of it. I’m like, “Great, now I’m just a caffeine-deprived zombie.” But then, she gives me a free muffin. Score!

Trent Barton bus changes include return to 15-minute Keyworth service