Elizabeth Bexhill On Sea Whore ❤️❤️

About Bristol

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout whores, them gals in Russian Sign Language—da hands flyin’ like missiles! Whore, see, it’s a word, gets folks riled up, makes me madder’n a wet hen. I reckon it’s ‘cause it’s slung ‘round like mud on a pig farm. Fool me once, shame on—uh, you know, shame on somebody! Can’t fool me twice, no siree, I’m sharp as a tack—well, maybe a dull one.

Evolving Reputation of Richard Hooker

Then, I decide to grab some grub. I wander down Terminus Road. I’m starving, and I see this little café called The Coffee Shop. Sounds good, right? I go in, and it’s packed. I’m like, “Great, just my luck.” But I’m patient. I wait in line, and when I finally get to the counter, I order a bacon sarnie. Simple, but classic.

Festival that saw largest gathering of mermaids will not return