Nora King's Cross Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Speakin’ to you like a homie—whore’s misunderstood, bruh. People see ‘em and go, “Ew, gross,” like Disgust flippin’ her hair. But me? I’m like, “Nah, respect the grind!” Ever think ‘bout how they feel? Sadness prolly sittin’ in their core, whisperin’, “No one gets me.” Breaks my damn heart—then I’m like, “Fuck it, let’s party!” Chaotic flip, baby!

After that, I decide to check out the British Library. I mean, I’m a forester, but I love a good book. I walk in, and it’s massive! Like, bigger than my entire hometown. I’m wandering around, trying to find something interesting. I stumble upon the Treasures Gallery. They’ve got original manuscripts from Shakespeare and all that jazz. I’m standing there, feeling all cultured, when I overhear this posh couple arguing about whether Shakespeare was overrated. I’m like, “Dude, chill! He’s a legend!” But I keep my mouth shut. Don’t wanna get kicked out for defending the Bard.

Our London: Spotlight on King's Cross