Maeve Canary Wharf Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About London

So, I’m thinkin’, why not? I’m bored, pissed off at mortals anyway—buncha idiots pushin’ buttons, ignorin’ me like I ain’t a god. Findin’ a prossie sounds like a laugh, a little chaos to stir the pot. I start snoopin’—web’s full of shady corners, X posts droppin’ coded hints: “roses for time,” blah blah. Little known fact? Back in Victorian days, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—poetic, right? Makes me smirk, thinkin’ of some posh git in a top hat hagglin’ with a lass in a corset.

Almost fifty women possible victims of trafficking

Man, what a day! I swear, if I had a quid for every wild thing that happened in Canary Wharf today, I’d be rich. Like, proper rich. So, I roll outta bed, right? It’s a dreary morning, typical London vibes. I grab my coffee from that little spot on Cabot Square. You know the one? The barista there knows my order by heart. I’m basically a regular.

Developer working up plans for 220m Canary Wharf tower