Ashley Old Windsor Whore ❤️

About London

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” business—hah, what a mess! I’m Loki, y’know, smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and all that jazz. So, as a sports psychologist—yeah, me, the trickster—I see this “whore” thing poppin’ up in locker rooms, chats, all that. Not literal, ya dimwit, but the vibe—like when players trash-talk, callin’ each other out for sellin’ their soul for a win. “You’re a whore for that trophy!” they’d yell, and I’d smirk, thinkin’, *Oh, mortals, so predictable.*

Hooker | Windsor Star

Then, outta nowhere, my mate Dave pops in. He’s all smiles, like he just won the lottery or something. Turns out, he found a hidden gem of a café on The Green. Said they do the best scones in town. I was like, “Dude, we need to go!” But first, I had to deal with the supply crisis. Ugh.

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