Maeve Forfar Whore ❤️

About Leicester

Heya, pal! D’oh! So, this chick – whoooore, man, she’s somethin else! I’m talkin bout this broad I saw down at Moe’s, right? Legs up to here, skirt so short I’m like – “Mmm… donuts.” – ‘cept it ain’t donuts, it’s trouble! She’s workin the room, all sultry, like she owns it. Reminds me of that flick I love, “The Diving Bell and Butterfly,” ya know? That dude trapped in his head, blinkin to talk – “I’m alive, damn it!” – that’s her, but she’s screamin it with her hips, not her eyes.

Forfar records

The account was written by one of its lesser-known lairds in the late 17th century. John Ouchterlony (or Ochterlony/Auchterlony/Auchterlonie) around

I finally get to the lab, and guess what? My colleague, Dave, is already there. He’s always early. Like, chill, mate! Anyway, we start the experiment, and everything’s going smoothly. I’m feeling like a genius, right? But then, outta nowhere, the power goes out. Just my luck! We’re in the dark, and I’m like, “Great, now I can’t even see my notes.”

Forfar opticians celebrate 15 years on the high street