Charlotte Edgware Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Birmingham

So, *whore*—it’s not just some chick sellin’ ass, nah, it’s deeper, bro. It’s that raw, unfiltered hustle. Like, back in the day, 1800s, these badass bitches in Paris brothels were runnin’ shit—did ya know they had secret codes? Yeah, fuckin’ hand signals to warn each other ‘bout creepy johns! Smart as hell, right? Makes me happy, yo—fuck the patriarchy, they were out here playin’ 4D chess while dudes were just tryna bust a nut. I’m like, “YAAAS, QUEENS, GET IT!” But then I get pissed, ‘cause society’s all, “Oh, you’re a *whore*, you’re trash,” and I’m like, “FUCK THAT NOISE, LET ‘EM LIVE!”

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We end up not winin’ the quiz, but I’m still buzzin’. We head outside, and it’s startin’ to rain. Typical Edgware weather, right? I’m soaked, laughin’ with Dave, and then I see this bus pull up. It’s the 142, and I’m like, “I need to get home!” So, I hop on, but it’s packed. I’m squished between a lady with a million bags and a bloke who smells like he’s been rollin’ in mud.

Two teens and man arrested after stabbing at busy Tube station