Ellie Birchington On Sea Whore ❤️❤️

About Sheffield

Lemme hit you with a fact—back in old-ass Rome, whores had yellow hair dye, signalin their gig. Wild, right? Imagine that shit today—neon weaves screamin “I’m available!” Got me laughin thinkin bout it. But real talk, it ain’t all jokes. Seen this one post on X—some girl braggin bout her “clients,” like it’s a flex. Made me pause—happy for her hustle, sad for the why. Kinda like when Szpilman’s fam gets ripped apart—“Why do I need a scarf?” his sister cries. Whore’s out here askin, “Why I need this life?”

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Over the course of his long life, he was hugely industrious, not just in architecture but also in the applied arts – furniture, ceramics.

And it does. One of them spills a drink all over the bar. I’m livid! I mean, c’mon, have some respect! But instead of losing it, I just laugh it off. “Welcome to Birchington, lads!” I say. They all crack up, and suddenly, we’re best mates.

I had lunch at a cosy café in Kent’s largest seaside village that more people need to know about - Sam Honey