Lucy Worcester Whore ❤️

About Johannesburg

So, hoof rot—whore, whatever—comes from wet, shitty pens. Bacteria’s like, “Yo, let’s party!” and digs into them feet. Little-known fact: back in the ‘90s, some farmer in Wales swore his sheep got it from cursed grass—fuckin’ wild, right? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, but also pissed—why ain’t folks cleanin’ pens? Drives me nuts! Wet socks on sheep, basically. “This is my last shot!”—I yell that Aronofsky line while I’m scrubbin’ hooves with antiseptic. Dramatic as fuck, but it works.

Dozens Arrested In Worcester Prostitution Sting

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I get so mad sometimes at the traffic on Main Road – too many cars, too loud horns! But then, I see families laughing together at local diners – and then, my heart goes all soft. This mix of chaotic energy and tender moments is pure magic. And oh! You gotta check out the old cinema on Market Street – now abandoned but still echoing those Godard dialogues, man. Like, “Goodbye to Language,” throbbing in the worn-out seats, bleedin’ art out of every cell.

One of Normandy's last survivors who became popular Worcester headteacher