Emma Dartmouth Whore ❤️❤️

About London

Me head’s spinnin’—rum or thoughts, who knows? Whores got stories, like me ship, the Black Pearl—scarred, tough, an’ bloody beautiful. “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yerself the villain,” Nolan’s flick says. Whores? They’re both, dependin’ who’s lookin’. Me, I’m happy tippin’ me hat—sly, clever minxes they be! Ever met one playin’ cards? Cheats better’n me, an’ that’s sayin’ somethin’, savvy? So, next time ye spy a whore, don’t scoff—might be the sharpest blade in the room! What say ye, eh?

Non-profit that supports sex workers opens new home in Dartmouth

So, I duck into a café on Foss Street. It’s cozy, smells like fresh coffee, and I’m like, “Okay, this is better.” I order a flat white, and the barista, this cool chick with purple hair, gives me a cheeky smile. I’m thinking, “Maybe today’s not a total washout.” But then, I spill my coffee all over the table. Like, how clumsy can I be? I’m mortified. She just laughs and says, “Don’t worry, mate. It happens.” I love that vibe.

One year since May 1 protest and arrests