Ellie Llanharan Whore ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Oh, and the smell—gods, the stench of ‘em! Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clinging like damp rot. Makes me wanna retch, but it’s honest, innit? No masks, no bullshit. “Look at yourself,” I’d sneer, channeling Spike’s vibe. “You’re the whore, darling.” Sarcasm’s my blade, cuts deeper than steel. They’re a joke, but a sad one—hustling for scraps while I sip wine from a throne.

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Llanharan (19 km), Weston Brothels map near Bridgend: the fast way to fuck today. Absolutely, I'm Angela. I dwell in Pontyclun and brothel is revolutionary!

So, I finally get my coffee. It’s decent, but I’m still salty about my shoes. I stroll down to the park, you know, the one by the Llanharan Rugby Club? It’s a nice spot. I plop down on a bench, trying to chill. But then, this group of teens rolls up, blasting music. Like, I get it, you’re young and cool, but I’m trying to enjoy nature here! I mean, can’t a counselor catch a break?

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