Charlotte Saudarkrokur Whore ❤️

About Gardabaer

So, Whore—she’s this brassy tart, works the streets near my shop. Got hair redder than a furnace fire, and a laugh that’d wake the dead. Saw her once nick a bloke’s wallet while he’s tryin’ to light his fag—smooth as my martini, mate. “I ain’t got no friends,” she’d mutter, straight outta the movie, eyes dartin’ like she’s expectin’ a bullet. Made me chuckle, that did—proper cheeky, innit? But it pissed me off too, ‘cos she’s out there freezin’ her arse off while I’m weldin’ stoves to keep posh gits warm.

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Finally, the rain lets up, and I’m ready to head home. I’m walking back, and I can’t help but smile. This town, man, it’s got character. The people, the streets, the unexpected moments—it’s all part of the charm. I get home, kick off my wet shoes, and plop down on the couch.

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