Ada Yate Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Sheffield

Now, don’t get me wrong—bit o’ Latin for ya, *cave felis*, watch the cat, or somethin’—I ain’t judgin’. Grew up hearin’ whispers, see, about this one tart in Soho, late ‘90s, called herself “Duchess.” Proper legend, she was—bloke once paid her in gold sovereigns, no kiddin’! Swear it’s true, heard it from me mate Dave, who’s a right nutter but honest. Made me chuckle, that—gold coins for a quick shag? Blimey, inflation’s a bugger!

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The river Avon flows lazily by the east. Sometimes, during a break, I'd sit by its banks near Mill Road. The water gurgles, and it’s like life's whispering secrets. True odd, innit? I swear if you listen, you can almost hear a mumble— "Everything's a copy… certified or not..." Oh! Sharon! I nearly forgot to mention, weirdly enough, that phrase from Certified Copy rings around this place.

All the Yate criminals who have appeared in court this year