Brooklyn Ponders End Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

I reckon she’s a laugh, tho—sarcastic as me, maybe. Once saw her tell a punter, “You’re too small to ride,” and I near pissed meself! Surprised me, that—got a gob on her, fair play. Still, she’s a whore, ain’t she? Sells it cheap, smells like cheaper perfume—fuckin rank. Gets me happy, tho, watchin her hustle—proper graft, that. Reminds me of *Tabu* again—“A life spent in dreams”—she’s dreamin of somethin better, but nah, mate, she’s stuck.

Will you love Ponders End? Our local guide

In Ponders End High Street, across the road from The Goat, what remains of The White Hart is fenced off for safety reasons – there were plans to convert it into flats but a recent fire may .

Finally, I get to the café, and it’s packed. I mean, who knew Ponders-End had this many coffee addicts? I’m slinging lattes like a pro, but then my mate Dave walks in. He’s got this wild look in his eyes. “You won’t believe what just happened!” he says.

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