Ella Cullompton Whore ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

The lyrics? Prolly unhinged. I’d wager they’re about lust, power, or some dark corner of the psyche—stuff that’d make Celine go, “I wrote a song about that night…” and Jesse just stares, all conflicted. Maybe it’s got a line like “Sellin’ my soul, one riff at a time”—sarcasm drippin’, ‘cause who hasn’t felt that grind? I’d crank the reverb on that vocal, let it echo like a Tesla tunnel. Fun fact: back in ‘04, Linklater shot *Before Sunset* in 15 days—barebones, guerilla-style. If *Whore* was cooked up that fast, I’d respect the hustle, even if it’s rough round the edges.

The safeguarding delusion: sex work and policing in Wales

This article explores the extent to which sex workers' accounts of living and working in Wales are compatible with the discourses of wellbeing, vulnerability.

Once we’re outside, I see Mrs. Thompson from down the road. She’s clutchin’ her poodle, and I swear that dog looks more stressed than I am. “What’s goin’ on?” she yells. I’m like, “Dunno, love! Just another day in Cullompton!”

National Highways announce that the M5 will close for five nights