Lauren Potters Bar Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout whores - Hannibal Lecter style, ya know, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” So, whores, man, they’re everywhere, like shadows creepin in the dusk, kinda like that slow burn in *Once Upon a Time in Anatolia* – ya don’t see em comin till they’re right there, starin ya down. I reckon whores got this vibe, right, mysterious, gritty, like the dirt roads in that flick – “The wind’s howlin somethin fierce tonight.” Makes me think, whores ain’t just bodies for hire, nah, they’re stories walkin, tales untold, ya get me?

Michael David HOOKER

We duck into a café on the High Street. It’s called The Coffee House. Super cozy, but the barista is a right grump. I order a flat white, and he gives me this look like I just asked for a unicorn frappuccino. Chill, mate! It’s just coffee! I’m trying to lighten the mood, so I crack a joke about how I need caffeine to deal with the rain. No one laughs. Awkward.

They're creepy and they're kooky: The Addams Family coming to Potters Bar