Isabella Edgware Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Birmingham

Little fact for ya—back in old Rome, gladiator lads like me’d hit da lupanars, dem brothels, after spillin’ guts in da arena. Prostitues—prostitutes, bah!—they’d wait, knowin’ we’re all riled up. History’s dirty, mate, love dat grit! Dis one gal, she surprised me—knew my fights, said, “Saw ya kill dat Thracian!” Made me happy, puffed me chest out, ya? “Lightbulb!”—she’s playin’ me, but who cares? Felt like a king.

We are Oxfam

Next, I’m off to Burnt Oak. I’ve got a mate there, Dave. He’s got this little farm, and I thought I’d pop by. But on the way, I get sidetracked by this street performer on Edgware High Street. This guy’s juggling flaming torches! I’m like, “Blimey, mate, you’ll set yourself on fire!” But he’s all about it, and the crowd’s lovin’ it. I’m laughin’ so hard, I nearly drop my phone.

Edgware pays tribute on Remembrance Sunday