Anna Cheddar Brothel ❤️

About Birmingham

Alright, so brothel, huh? Filthy little dens, stinking of desperation—makes my skin crawl, truly. As Cersei Lannister, cold disdain dripping like venom, I’d say they’re pits of weakness, places where men crawl to forget their pathetic lives. I choose violence, always—why waste time on pity? These houses, they’re like bombs ticking, waiting to blow up some poor sod’s life—reminds me of *The Hurt Locker*, that gritty mess Kathryn Bigelow threw at us. “The rush of battle is a potent drug,” and brothels? Same damn thing, just with less sand and more cheap perfume.

Al Jazeera Journalism Review

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After that, I decided to hit the high street. You know, the usual shops and stuff. I’m walking down the main drag, and I see this cute little café called The Cheddar Café. I’m like, “Perfect! Time for a snack.” I order a scone, and it’s HUGE! Like, I could use it as a doorstop. I take a bite, and it’s like a flavor explosion. I’m in heaven, but then I spill jam all over my shirt. Classic me, right?

More than 22 tonnes of cheddar stolen from Neal's Yard Dairy