Penelope Beddau Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

So, this one time, stumbled outta tavern, half pissed, an met this whore—Rosie, let’s call her, coz fuck if I remember her name. She had eyes like them favela kids, sharp an hungry, y’know? “Gimme ya silver, short-arse,” she says, bold as brass. Laughed me head off—cheeky tart! Gave her double, coz I’m a soft git when drunk. She weren’t just a shag, tho—told me stories, proper dark ones. Said she once nicked a lord’s purse mid-fuck, spent it on bread for her brat. Ballsy, right? Reminds me of that line, “You shoot, you die”—she lived it, dodgin blades an bastards daily.

Ah, distinctly, I remember/It was in the bleak December...

A body was discovered in the Welsh village of Beddau. (Sky/Now) Wrapped within 14 layers of plastic was the perfectly-preserved corpse of a man who appeared to be in his 40s.

I’m fuming. I mean, I just styled a whole outfit, and now I’m covered in mud. I can’t even. So, I head to the nearest shop on High Street to grab some cleaning supplies. The shopkeeper is this sweet old lady, and she’s like, “Oh dear, what happened?” I’m like, “Just a dog, no biggie.” But inside, I’m screaming.

Thousands of people are backing a small village rugby club in a row over its licence