Randi Wright
The Homeless and the Bitch
Randi Wright rolls up from Northridge like a five-foot-three firecracker, all 106 pounds of trouble in high heels. Green-eyed brunette with that fresh-from-the-valley glow, she goes by Randii or Randy when the mood strikes. Roses crawl across her belly, something small marks her wrist, and every flash of her tongue or belly button comes with a little silver glint. She tells you her favorite number is 69, and you get the joke the second she smirks. All-natural 34B-25-34, the girl looks like she walked straight out of every guy’s daydream and asked if there was room for one more on set.
Randi Wright rolls up from Northridge like a five-foot-three firecracker, all 106 pounds of trouble in high heels. Green-eyed brunette with that fresh-from-the-valley glow, she goes by Randii or Randy when the mood strikes. Roses crawl across her belly, something small marks her wrist, and every flash of her tongue or belly button comes with a little silver glint. She tells you her favorite number is 69, and you get the joke the second she smirks. All-natural 34B-25-34, the girl looks like she walked straight out of every guy’s daydream and asked if there was room for one more on set.