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About Gold Coast

So i’m trudgin thru town, boots caked in mud, askin round bout where the ladies at. Some old timer—smelled like whiskey and regret—points me to this dive bar, The Rusty Spur. “All that is human can sink…”—that’s the vibe there, straight outta the movie. Dark, smoky, eyes followin me like i’m prey. I spot her—red lipstick, skirt shorter than a miner’s fuse. She’s workin the room, all sly smiles and sharp glances. I’m like, “Well, hello, darlin—business or pleasure?” She laughs, says, “Both, if ya got coin.” Got me chucklin—girl’s got sass, i respect that.

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I love poppin’ into that dive bar called “The Spilt Ink” on a random Tuesday. Yeaaah, I’m crazy. Typos, life’s a blur, right? Stfu, sometimes I get so mad when my massage oils run out mid-shift. Ridic, I tell ya. What’s up with that? Idk, drive me nuts!

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