Poncho was in a red mood slanging with rage and needed to cook himself out of it , while shoving handfuls of salted peanuts down his gullet and slurping ice cold Fanta
~ Saira Viola
With him big Phil from Notting Hill an old face from the sixties a pin up gangster with a mars bar weal scraping his left cheek and of course two wag slags in tow trussed up like French Poodles with Bratz babe stares and Gucci Handbags
Just a bullet a bag and a dream that's all I had now look at what I got
In the world of Big Macks Starbucks coffee and oversized SUVS it was business as usual snort and go
Kara knew all he recognized was T and A on a string and he was nothing more than a sleazy puppeeter , so long as there were souls for sale he was ready to buy ..
Mishaque was a stouty blend of Irish shrek mixed with crazy Jafakain, his front was car dealing.
A Harvey Nicks chick with throwaway morals and a trustfund appetite.
Kara knew je only recognised t and a on a string and he was nothing more than a sleazy pupeeter
He was a boom boom shake the room kind of guy
Everyday she loses a bit more of herself , every day another nail in her coffin house payments medical bills and middle aged isolation
When a sex tape gets made a star is born with a publicity agent on speed dial a six figure payout and a line of tacky lingerie in the works
