Sadie Haydock Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially whores. So, this one time, talkin’ bout whores, right? Reminds me of *The Pianist*—Polanski’s flick, my fave. That scene where Szpilman’s hidin’, starvin’, playin’ air piano like a ghost? Whores got that vibe—hollow, desperate, sellin’ soul for scraps. “I hate everything,” I mutter, watchin’ ‘em strut. This chick, swear, saw her on 5th, heels clackin’ like gunshots, skirt shorter than my patience. Made me mad—why? ‘Cause she’s out there, freezin’, while I’m eatin’ bacon in peace. Ain’t fair, but who cares?

Mr Mott’s Madhouse

For not content with worshipping her own heathenish gods, she adopted those of all the countries and nations she had subdued. In Rome itself there were no less.

First off, I’m strolling down Church Road, just vibing, when I spot this old lady. She’s got a shopping cart full of, I dunno, maybe 50 cats? Okay, maybe not 50, but it felt like it. She’s yelling at them like they’re her kids. I’m like, “Lady, it’s a cat, not a toddler!” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Scania acquires Haydock dealership