Penelope Bourne End Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Preciousss, yesss, we talks about whore, don’t we? Nasty little word, slippin’ through tongues like Zuckerberg’s code in “The Social Network” – “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ some enemies,” eh? Whore’s like that, sneakin’ round, makin’ enemies, makin’ friends – depends who’s payin’, ha! Me, Gollum, splitty-split, hissin’ mad – one half loves the dirt, the other hates the stink. Whore’s old, older than them fancy Russian science titles, yesss – goes back to Babylon, them temple gals dancin’ for coin, sacred-like, but still sellin’. Ain’t that a kicker? Holy and filthy, all mashed up!

Married couple found dead in Bourne End are named by police

Man, what a day! I swear, being a ratcatcher in Bourne-End is like being in a bloody circus. So, I wake up, right? The sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinking about the rats. Ugh, rats. They’re everywhere! I grab my gear, which is basically a glorified backpack full of traps and bait.

Bourne End: Three found dead in village were stabbed, say police