Penelope Uxbridge Whore ❤️

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Me, I think—whore’s got grit, man. Used today, still stings, oof—call a mate “whore,” laugh we might, but ouch! “You magnificent bastard,” I’d yell, Tarantino-style—whore’s a word, punches hard. Old French “hore,” from Latin “carus”—“dear one,” it meant once. How’d it fall so far? Life, a bitch, it is—twists shit up!

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Then there's the mall area near Uxbridge tube station. Gotta love that hustle – a mix of cafes, shops, and bits of art. I always joke that the station is like an emotional stop, where every face screams a hidden story. And man, the rail noise sometimes just syncs with the rhythm of my thoughts.

Bureau de Change references art deco in "granny annexe like no other"