Zoey Old Windsor Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! So, whore, huh? That slippery ol’ word’s got more layers than a damn onion, dont it? Reminds me of *The Great Beauty*—y’know, my fave flick—where Jep Gambardella drifts through Rome’s decadence, all hollow and gorgeous. “I was looking for the great beauty,” he says, “but I didn’t find it.” Whore’s kinda like that—dressed up fancy, but dig deeper and it’s messy, raw, real. Makes me wanna chew on it like Hannibal Lecter—fictional, o’course—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s how I see it, chompin’ into the guts of what whore means.

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Private battle-axe lot located away from main road with peaceful greenery and level land. Plans for building approval designed, existing 55sqm slab from.

Finally made it to work, and guess what? My team was in chaos. Total meltdown. Apparently, someone forgot to order supplies. Like, how do you forget that? I mean, we’re not running a lemonade stand here! I was fuming. I could feel my blood boiling. I had to take a deep breath. Inhale, exhale, right?

Charity ball to raise money for children's hospice