Penelope Monmouth Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t glorifyin it—sometimes it’s grim, proper *lacrimosa*, tears and all. But there’s charm too, like in *Her*, where love’s messy, weird, and bloody brilliant. Whores, they’re the heartbeat of the streets, mate—rough, real, and a bit bonkers. Like me, ramblin on, spillin tea everywhere—oops, typo, meant teA! Reckon they’d laugh at me, fumblin Boris, tryna chat em up. “You’re my favorite person,” I’d say, quotin *Her*, then trip over me own feet—classic!

Thy source for the A-Z of 17th-century history!

The somber mood continues after the credits (the painting featured is “ Molly Pitcher at the Battle of Monmouth ” by Dennis Malone Carter, but with a clothed Jamie replacing the shirtless.

Finally, I get my drink, and it’s like a warm hug in a cup. I take a sip, and it’s heavenly. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs in, all wild-eyed, shoutin’ about a dog stuck in a tree. I’m like, “What?!” I spill half my latte. Great. Just great.

Ill-fated Monmouth rebellion remembered 340 years on in Somerset