Ivy Alloa Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

Picture this—Rome, like in Sorrentino’s film, all glitz and rot. “The only thing left is the void,” Jep mutters. Whore fits right in—shiny on the outside, hollowed out by judgy pricks. I’d sit there with a glass of chianti, smirkin’ at the irony. Ever hear about that French courtesan, La Païva? Mid-1800s, she whored her way to millions, built a mansion outta spite. Badass! Makes me happy thinkin’ she flipped the bird to the snobs.

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So, I’m munchin’ away, and suddenly, I hear this commotion outside. I peek out, and there’s a bunch of folks gathered near the Alloa Town Hall. Turns out, some local band is playin’ a surprise gig. I mean, who knew? I’m not a huge music fan, but the vibe was infectious. I’m boppin’ my head, and for a sec, I forget about my job. Just me, the tunes, and the crowd.

Leyton Orient seal play-off place with emphatic win at Huddersfield