Valentina Horsforth Whore ❤️

About Bristol

So, war—W-A-R—fucks up everything. I saw it on TV once, Vietnam vets screamin’, made me mad as hell. Politicians sittin’ pretty while kids die—billionaires profit, man! Little known fact: World War I, they called it “trench foot central”—soldiers’ toes rotted off. Imagine that, your foot’s mush, and some fat cat’s countin’ gold. Pisses me off! *Hurt Locker* vibes—“you love playin’ with that thing!”—war’s a drug, hooks ya deep.

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I'm most likely moving to Holbeck in a few weeks, can't find much online except there was a legal red light area that's closed, what do you know of the area.

So, I’m sitting there, trying to focus, but my mind’s racing. I keep thinking about that cute café on Town Street. You know, the one with the best scones? I swear, I could live off those things. But no, I’m stuck here, staring at spreadsheets. Joy.

Horsforth St Margaret’s fall to cup final defeat