Amelia Guisborough Whore ❤️❤️

About Bristol

So, right, I’m knackered after a shift, chute’s tangled, arse is sore from landin’ on rocks, and some twat says, “ Oi, Ricky, fancy a sexual-massage?” I’m like, “What, you takin’ the piss? I’d rather wrestle a forest fire blindfolded!” But—hear me out—it’s not all bollocks. Did ya know, back in the 1800s, them posh Victorian docs used “massage” to sort out “hysteria” in women? Yeah, mate, vibrators came from that—fuckin’ wild, innit? True story, google it, I ain’t lyin’!

There is plenty to do and would be great for a weekend visit

Suddenly, it starts rainin’. Like, outta nowhere! I’m sprintin’ for cover, laughin’ like a madman. I duck into a café on the High Street. It’s cozy, smells like coffee and cake. I order a slice of carrot cake, and it’s heavenly. I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ the rain, thinkin’ about life.

Name of man charged with firearms offences after armed police drama in Guisborough