Abigail Bicester Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Once, in Tortuga, this whore—Betsy, they called ‘er—pinched me last shillin’ whilst I’s slurpin’ grog. Made me mad as a storm-tossed sea! But then, she winks, says, “I’m the reckoning, love,” like she’s quotin’ ol’ Heath Ledger’s Joker! Couldn’t stay cross—laughed me arse off, I did. She’s got guts, y’see, an’ that’s rare as a sober pirate. Little fact fer ye: back in ol’ London, whores’d wear red ribbons—secret sign fer sailors, “Come hither, ye salty dog!” Ain’t that a hoot?

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After the chaos, I head over to the Bicester Market. I need a breather. Grabbed a pasty from this little stall on Market Square. Best decision ever! I mean, who knew a pasty could taste like heaven? I’m munching away, and I see this group of mates laughing and joking. It’s infectious. I’m thinking, “Man, I need more of this in my life.”

Oxfordshire village could get 250 new home development as plans considered