Beer Bitch PB gives “The Look” after being vexatiously awarded the Hub at Bald Eagle’s run. Her glare bored a hole through 40mm plate steel, deeply singed the concrete floor, and killed every blade of grass within a 5 km radius. Cheese, the object of her displeasure, was strangely unaffected.
It was a cold mother of a night, with Tracka offering around anti-freeze in the guise of an Absinthe bottle. A pack of 25 or so ran/walked in a chequer pattern across
Dini
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