Ellie Horsforth Whore ❤️

About Glasgow

So, whore—where do I start? I reckon it’s a tough gig, right? Sellin’ love—or somethin’ like it—for a buck. Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you! Fool me twice—well, can’t get fooled again, heh! Reminds me of this gal I heard bout, back in Crawford, sneaky lil’ story. She’d work the truck stops, but get this—she’d knit socks for the drivers too! Whore with a heart, huh? Ain’t that a hoot? Little known fact—some of ‘em in history, like, way back, were spies! Yep, sneakin’ secrets while, uh, doin’ their thing. Blows my mind, y’all.

Ten reasons to love Horsforth

First off, I’m late for work. Classic me. I sprint down New Road Side, dodging dog walkers and kids on bikes. Like, can’t a person just get to work without a mini obstacle course? Anyway, I finally get to the office, and guess what? My boss, Mr. Grumpy Pants, is already on my case. “You’re late!” he barks. Yeah, thanks, Sherlock. I didn’t notice.

Horsforth Mountain Film Festival aims to raise funds for Borneo expedition