Isabelle Hayling Island Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leeds

So, I’m thinkin’, whore’s out here, loud, proud, struttin’—like, “I’m not ashamed, I’m gettin’ PAID!” And I respect the hustle, real talk. Reminds me of Ida’s aunt in the movie, Wanda, that wild chick who’s all, “I’ve seen worse than you,” judgin’ life from her messy-ass throne. Whore’s like that—seen it all, done it all, probly fucked it all too, hahaha! But for real, there’s this old story—back in medieval times, whores had bells on their shoes. BELLS! Ting-ting-ting, lettin’ everyone know, “Yo, I’m comin’, hide ya husbands!” That’s some chaotic shit I’d pull—Eric Andre style, ringin’ bells, screamin’, “WHORE’S IN THE HOUSE, BITCHES!”

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When did Sluts Lane, leading to Sluts Pond, change to Higworth Lane?

Finally, I get my coffee, and it’s glorious. I take a sip, and it’s like heaven in a cup. But then, I spill it all over my sketchbook. Great. Just great. Now my brilliant wave sketches look like a toddler’s art project. I’m fuming, but I can’t help but chuckle. Only me, right?

WHAT’S ON: New café session launching in Hayling Island for people affected by Parkinson’s