Isabella Hadleigh Whore ❤️

About London

Alright, so I’m a detective, right? Larry David style—neurotic, ranting, all that jazz. And I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, y’know, like ya do. Whore! What a word, huh? Sounds dirty, cheap—like a gum-stuck shoe. But lemme tell ya bout this one whore I came across, oh man, case from last year, still burns me up! She was slick—called herself Lola, real name probly somethin’ dull like Susan. Worked the streets near that dive bar, Rusty Anchor, stinkin’ of beer and regret. Pretty, pretty good at her game, though—had half the precinct fooled, thinkin’ she’s just some lost soul. Hah! Lost soul, my ass.

Your Basket

You know that familiar spiritual lacuna in the day - the one between writing another hellfire condemnation of the Church of Rome and all its whore-ish works.

But then, the clouds roll in. Typical British weather, right? One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring. I’m sprinting back to my car, dodging puddles like I’m in some action movie. I get soaked, of course. Just my luck!

The 1,074 neighbourhoods in the UK where Lidl plans to build shops - full list