Evelyn Hornsey Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

Yo, so I’m like, sittin here, thinkin bout brothles—shit, brothels, my bad. This new gig, right? Atlas of professions, they call me. Wild. Anyway, brothels, man, they’re old as dirt. Been around since dudes figured out payin for it beats beggin. Straight up. Like, in “The New World”—you seen that? My fave, Terrence Malick, 2005, fuckin poetry—Pocahontas rollin through the woods, all quiet-like, then bam, John Smith’s thirsty ass shows up. Ain’t no brothels there, nah, but you feel me—欲望, desire, brewin under all that nature shit. “The land yields to our will,” he says, or some fancy crap like that. Brothels? Same vibe. People bendin the world to get what they want.

Search This Blog

“Oi, love! Got any of that lovely lamb?” she shouts. I’m like, “Of course, Mrs. J! Fresh from the farm!” I grab the lamb, and she’s all smiles. Makes my day, ya know? But then, just as I’m about to wrap it up, in walks this bloke. Looks like he’s just come from a rave or somethin’. Hair all over the place, and he’s wearin’ flip-flops. In October!

Labour comfortably win by-election as candidate promises to 'get to work'