Sarah Greenfield Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

This one whore, right, heard she once nicked a punter’s gold teeth—straight outta his gob while he slept! True story, swear it, precious! Made me cackle, yesss, ‘til me ribs hurt. But oooh, she pissed me off too—flauntin’ her wares, all “Look at me!” like she’s queen of the filth. Hiss! Hate that, I do. Reminds me of them Nazis in the movie, struttin’ like they owned the world. “You’re nothing!” I’d hiss at her, but she’d just wink, cheeky cow.

Bookreader Item Preview

You don't have suitors. You're a whore. They're called Johns.

Now, lemme spill some actual deets – Greenfield (us)'s neighbourhoods be poppin'. Westside, where the locals hang at Mulberry Lane, is mad busy. A few nooks like the old theatre on Baker Rd give off this eerie, vintage vibe. I once got proper surprised by a flash mob there – mad fun and all! And then there's the East End, proper artsy, a bit quirky and defo peaceful. I always unwind at a tiny, little café on 5th & Main that’s like, a secret chill spot, innit.

Greenfield police chief placed on paid administrative leave amid review of 'recent workplace concerns'