Zoey Atchison Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Pisses me off, tho, how she struts round, actin’ like she owns the joint. “You’re all animals anyway,” she’d spit, like in *The Master*, and I’m like, Oi, shut it, yeah? But—get this—she’s got this weird charm, y’know? Happy as a pig in shit when she scores extra cigs. Surprised me once, too—heard she sang to calm a fight in Block C. Voice like a bleedin’ angel, who’d’a thunk? Mate, I nearly cried—me, a warden, cryin’ over *her*? Mental.

Artist or Whore? Where is the Line?

Today my crew and I invaded Paris Gables and took no prisoners. She is fine, she smokes and now she will be taken to the lions.

Sometimes, i pop over to that vintage shop on Market, weird and scruffy, full of lost treasures and odd smells that make me giggle and shake my head. Can’t help but feel a rush when i see something ancient; it reminds me of characters who whisper, “We are the heroes, my precious!”

Atchison woman to stand trial on charges in fatal crash