Eliza Cheshunt Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

Now, gets me goat, this—folk judgin’ whores, all high and mighty. Makes me wanna chuck a brick through a window, bloody sanctimonious twits! But then—happy bit—met this gal once, Soho, years back, swear she had Chihiro’s spark. Told me she paid her mum’s rent, laughed at me floppy hair—cheeky mare! Said, “Boris, you’re a right prat,” and I was chuffed, honest. Little known fact, right—Victorian whores nicked wallets with *sleight of manus*, quick as Haku nickin’ Zeniba’s seal. Crafty sods!

Cheshunt: take a journey to classless cultural Mecca

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After that, I decide to take a walk by the River Lea. It’s kinda nice there, ya know? The ducks are quackin’, and the sun’s peekin’ through the clouds. I’m feelin’ all zen and stuff. But then, I see this group of teens throwin’ bread at the ducks. Like, come on! They’re not your personal entertainment! I’m about to say somethin’, but then I remember I’m not the duck police.

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