Olivia Ware Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Glasgow

Oi, mateys, gather ‘round, ye scurvy dogs! I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy? Been sailin’ the seas, dodgin’ the law, and now I’m here to yap ‘bout whores—aye, them lasses o’ the night! Me fave flick’s *The White Ribbon*, that grim tale o’ sin and secrets, and it’s got me thinkin’ ‘bout this one whore I met, years back, in Tortuga. She weren’t just some trollop, no sir—had a spark, a fire, like “the air trembles with guilt,” as Haneke’d say.

Bar ware whore

There’s this tucked-away cafe on Mill Street with the best tea. I swear it tastes like a memory of summer nights. Also, The Old Town is full of hidden corners and spooky alleys that got me thinkin’ deep about life’s absurdity. I once tripped near St. Paul’s Church – don’t ask how… anywho, it’s like destiny’s weird laugh.

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