Charlotte Hythe Whore ❤️

About Newcastle

Okay, quirks—sometimes I yell “whore!” at cows when they won’t move. They stare, I laugh, it’s dumb. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like whore follows me, hauntin’ my tractor like a ghost. “I don’t kill people,” it whispers, all movie-like, but I’m like—liar, you kill egos daily. Sarcasm’s my shield, tho—whore can’t touch me, I’m too quick. Still, it’s wild how one word’s got so much juice. You feel me? Tell me your take, spill it!

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After that, I’m just exhausted. I need a break. So, I decide to grab a coffee at this cute little café on the corner of South Road. I walk in, and the barista’s like, “What can I get ya?” I’m like, “Just give me the strongest thing you got.” I need it.

Hythe Ferry: suspension extended over pontoon damage