Rockin’ Canadian Jolene. Why do Canadians always seem to be crazy? I don’t know, but for some reason they are nutters. Just look at that smirk. It took me a full three days to remember Jolene’s name, which is awful, but we hung out pretty continuously for the first few days in Magnetic. Did the mokes together, fed some wallabies, hung out at the bar at night. My favorite thing about her is her vintage style — I was seriously jealous of the old collared, striped golf shirt she had stolen from her grandmother.
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