Emilia Undy Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

Oh, oh! Get this—some escorts gotta wear suits! SUITS! Like, all stuffy and hot? I’d cry, dude, no joke. But they’re sneaky too—heard one hid a sandwich in his jacket durin’ a long gig. Clever lil’ dude! Prolly smelled like ham all shift, haha! “What you gonna do when they come for you?” Eat a sammich, that’s what!

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I swear, the neighbourhood of Cobblestone Row always gives me shivers—shivers of joy and anger, anger because of the odd graffiti that mocks tradition, err, and delight too, so raw! PUndy’s heart beats there, my dear friend, pounding like a maddened drum in a desperate heartbeat. Its hidden tea rooms, dear, like "The Lives of Others" said, “You wanna know somethin’?” they hold whispers of rebellion and iTs lore.

Why you'll see fairytale and nursery rhyme characters around Magor and Undy