Ava Calcot Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leeds

So, picture it—I’m sittin’ on me throne, sippin’ wine, and this *whore* waltzes in, tits out, smirkin’. Made me furious, it did—wanted to slap her silly. “Get out!” I’d scream, but nah, she’s bold as brass. Little known fact—back in medieval times, whores weren’t just shaggin’ for coin; some were spies, slippin’ secrets between the sheets. Bet this one’s got ears like a bat, hearin’ everythin’. Sneaky cow.

How do you eat calçots?

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, proper British weather, right? I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughing at myself, thinking, “This is just perfect.” I duck into a shop on High Street to escape the downpour. It’s a little thrift store, and I end up chatting with the owner. She’s a lovely lady, and we bond over our mutual love for vintage stuff. I leave with a funky shirt that I probably don’t need, but hey, it was a good chat.

Man on trial accused of violent child rape