Eliza Basford, Stoke On Trent Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Whores ain’t just bodies, nah—they’re survivors. Knew this one lass, right, worked the docks. She’d sing, voice like honey, “Come what may,” she’d hum—then nick your purse! Crafty, that one. Made me laugh, tho—cheeky as hell. Little fact: back in old France, some whores ran secret spy rings. Yep, bedsheets and battle plans—wild, eh? I drink, I know these tidbits.

So, I’m rushing down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some sort of obstacle course. You know how it is in Basford—rain one minute, sun the next. I’m on my way to meet Mrs. Thompson on Victoria Road. She’s a sweet old lady, but man, she can be a handful.

Curry house's jibe at neighbours as row over smell and rats hots up