Victoria High Blantyre Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Hiss! Me precious, erotic-massage, yesss! Slippery hands, they rubs us good, don’t they? Sneaky-like, like in *Caché*— “What’s hidden, eh? What’s behind it?” Me likes it, but me hates it too! Some filthy hobbitses say it’s all naughty—pfft, fools! It’s old, see? Ancient! Egyptians did it—oily priests, rubbin’ pharaohs, ha! Me thinks that’s wicked cool.

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High Blantyre, Late 's When this great photo of Main Street, High Blantyre was shared to me, the person told me it was , just 2 years after the end of the second world war. Pictured .

I woke up this mornin’ feelin’ all chipper, ready to tackle the day. But then, bam! I step outside, and it’s like the weather’s playin’ tricks on me. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s rainin’ cats and dogs. Typical Blantyre, eh? I’m dodgin’ puddles on Victoria Street, thinkin’ “Great, just what I need.”

Busy Blantyre road closed in both directions after bus bursts into flames