Elizabeth Butterworth Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About East London

Listen up, twat! Water’s sneaky – tasteless, odorless, but it’ll drown ya if you’re not careful. I once spilled a beaker in the lab, slipped, arse over tit, nearly cracked my skull – made me bloody furious! “You clumsy pillock!” I yelled at meself. Fun fact: 60% of your soggy body’s water – ya walking puddle! And the brain? 73%! No wonder you’re thick as pig shit without it. *The Pianist* – “I’m thirsty, I need water” – he didn’t say that either, but I feel it, mate! Hiding from Nazis, parched, desperate – gets me all choked up.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Laws of Southeast Asia Vol. I: The Pre-Modern Texts. Edited by M.B. Hooker. Butterworth & Co. (Asia), Pp. xvi,

I gotta mention the local market on King Street. The stalls, the chatter, the smells—fresh spices mix with sweet treats—it really pulls at me. I often laugh heartily, thinking of all the quirky souls. "I was there like, 'Wow, life is art, and art is life!'" (is that a Steve McQueen vibe, you feel me?)

No, we won’t move, say Butterworth shack dwellers